


Moments

by HyperCaz



Series: Moments [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Complete, Episode Related, Episode Tag, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Wordcount: 30.000-50.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-23
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 62
Words: 31,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperCaz/pseuds/HyperCaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The growth and conflicts of a relationship in short moments. One moment per episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Rising (Part 1)

Elizabeth didn't know how it was possible, but there was a steaming cup of coffee on the desk in the office room she'd taken as her own. She wondered if the stress was getting to her and causing her to hallucinate. The city shook again, reminding her why this was an impossibility.

At this moment, Rodney McKay, who'd been running from console to console, discovered that he'd misplaced his mug of coffee. He didn't want to accuse anyone in case he got any comments about the appropriate times of coffee drinking. It was a common fact that any scientist under stress needs a stimulant. Preferably coffee.

Desperate after fruitless searching, Rodney finally spied his precious coffee. Just where he'd left it...in the small room off the command centre. He was dismayed to find Dr. Weir sipping it appreciatively.

Rodney scowled and took what he hoped was an unnoticed detour, walking in without knocking. He said bluntly, “That is my mug.”

Elizabeth looked down at it. Masking tape had been stuck to the side with the words **property of Rodney McKay - keep citrus products away**.

Elizabeth smiled, mistaking his intent. “So you were the one who left it for me.” Rodney was floored for a moment. First, he was a little miffed that she'd just assumed it was for her. But then a little voice in the back of his head reminded him that he wanted to keep in her good graces, even if it was only until the city imploded.

Rodney nodded mutely.

Elizabeth drained it, unaware that his eyes followed the movement of the cup. She held it out to him, saying sincerely, “Thank you.”

“Um...you're welcome.” Rodney quickly took it back.

He turned to go.

Elizabeth, seeing this, said, “Most people would be surprised that you would do this.”

He made a non-committal grunt.

“But,” she continued, “I know you're really not who you pretend to be. Again, thank you.”

There was a moment in which they held eye contact.

“If we don't die, do you want to have coffee together sometime?” she asked - too light heartedly, Rodney thought.

Time ticked away for a few more moments. He cleared his throat, nodded and left the room. He had a city to save, after all.


	2. The Rising (Part 2)

Rodney was trying to find the person responsible for the food he was eating. If there was any citrus in it, his regret would be not having coffee. Well, not just coffee. Coffee with Elizabeth.

“Rodney!”

He turned to see her approaching him, smiling. She was holding an empty mug in her hand.

“Why don't we have that coffee now?” Elizabeth suggested.

All thoughts of lemon flew out of Rodney's head. He quickly sought out his mug and followed her to the pile of instant coffee. When they both had steaming coffee in hand, they meandered a short way from the drinks table. Jubilant Athosian children raced past, knocking Rodney. He scowled.

“Outside?” Elizabeth caught the scowl.

The balcony provided relief from the noise of the party. Elizabeth leaned on the railing and closed her eyes briefly.

“I always wanted a place by the sea,” she commented.

Rodney gazed out at the ocean and said quietly, “Me too.”

Elizabeth smiled. “This is strange. It feels like I'm by the sea on Earth. With the breeze on my face. I wonder what direction it is...”

“A southerly,” Rodney said immediately.

She asked curiously, “How do you know that?”

He showed her his watch, which had a tiny compass embedded in the face.

“You can't do that just with your eyes,” Elizabeth laughed.

He kept an innocent look on his face for a couple of seconds before conceding, “I wet my finger.”

“You mean that actually works?”

Rodney nodded eagerly. “Sometimes.”

Elizabeth pressed her finger to her lips and wet it with her tongue. She held it out to the wind.

“So which way is it going now?” Rodney challenged.

She answered cheerfully, “Towards you.”

Rodney also checked the wind. He told her, "Spot on. It's an easterly. And – ” He glanced at his watch again. “You're standing exactly at east and I'm at west.”

“That means we have to have coffee again,” Elizabeth laughed. “Opposite directions have to meet some time.”

She drained her mug and left the balcony, leaving Rodney staring after her.


	3. Hide and Seek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

Rodney had few visitors. He decided it was because everyone was too busy doing vital things. Yes. That was it. Although, he was hurt when he didn't get a visit from Elizabeth. Every half hour he flagged down Dr. Beckett and asked if Dr. Weir had been to see him when he was asleep.

“No, lad,” Carson always replied, growing more irritated.

Rodney was crestfallen. He supposed he would be out of the infirmary soon anyway. Just as he was about to stage a prison break, Elizabeth walked in the door, carrying his mug.

“That better be coffee,” Rodney said and took it as soon as she offered.

He put on a smile, as if he'd known she would come. Elizabeth noticed the look in his eyes though. She asked, “Did you think I wouldn't come?”

“You have an expedition to run,” Rodney stated between gulps.

Elizabeth smiled at him. “An expedition that includes ordinary people who will do very brave things for other people. You did a very great thing, Rodney.”

“Were you surprised?” he asked, a little more bluntly than he intended.

“Some of them looked at me like it wasn't something I'd do.”

She frowned, saying adamantly, “You have more strength than anyone realises. I don't doubt you would do it again.” She glanced at her watch and said apologetically, “I have a few things to do. I hope to see you later.”

“Lizbeth...”

She paused and waited patiently.

“Thank you for believing in me,” Rodney said quietly.


	4. 38 Minutes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before the last scene.

Rodney felt intense relief wash over him when Major Sheppard's heart had started beating again. John could be frustrating, but he was a good man.

“That was too close,” Elizabeth said, eyes following the medical team as they took Sheppard away.

Rodney nodded mutely. He hadn't felt so helpless before, unable to move the Puddle Jumper and unable to help Sheppard. Seeing the vacant expression on his face, Elizabeth moved closer.

“You can't do everything alone,” she told him.

Rodney reminded her curtly, “I saved the city once already by myself.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at him and commented, “I was wondering if you would develop a hero complex.”

“A hero complex!” he repeated in disbelief. “If anyone has a hero complex here, it's Sheppard!”

She stared at him for a few moments, then shook her head, expelling a sigh.

Rodney demanded, “What? What was that look for?”

“You save the city once and you think you're a super hero,” Elizabeth said evenly with a tinge of rebuke. “Sometimes we have to admit that we can't do anything.”

Rodney looked away, muttering, “You wouldn't understand.”

She caught the mutter and was quick in her defence, “Everyday I watch my people go through the Stargate. I could be sending them to their deaths. I felt so helpless today, Rodney. I wanted to reach my hand through the 'gate and pull your team through. But I couldn't. We have to know when we can do something, and when we can support those that can.”

Rodney was silent, his stance shifting in favour of the other direction.

Elizabeth asked expectantly, “Will you at least think about what I've said?”

“Alright,” he allowed. “I'll think about it.”

Elizabeth smiled at this small acceptance. “Good. I am glad that you listened.”

As Rodney watched her leave, he did think about what she'd said. He wasn't one to back down easily, but her words had touched him. He resolved to better his attitude.


	5. Suspicion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before the opening titles.

Everyone filed out of the infirmary, troubled looks on their faces. A spy on Atlantis was a very worrying thought. But this was the last thing on Rodney's mind.

“Can you stay for a sec, Lizbeth?” he asked hopefully.

Elizabeth clearly had more pressing matters, but she did stop and turn. She had to suppress the smile that threatened to break out as she remembered his recent predicament. She settled for saying civilly, “What is it Rodney?”

“My foot is numb,” he replied in a long-suffering voice. “And I can't get it to warm up.”

She rested one hand on her hip and said tolerantly, “And I can help how?”

Rodney merely held his foot out. She sighed and, despite duty looming over her, Elizabeth sat down on the end of the bed and took his foot into her lap. She began to massage it, knowing that he would be enjoying the attention a little too much.

“You don't think Teyla really is the spy?” Rodney put forward, to his credit, in defence of his team mate.

She rubbed his heel and moved down the arch of his foot. She sighed wearily. “I don't know what to think. It doesn't look good for her at the moment.”

“I hardly think that someone who has reason to hate the Wraith would willingly spy for them,” Rodney stated stoutly, concentrating his eyes hard on his toes.

Elizabeth drew circles with her thumbs on the bottom of his foot. She said evenly, “I am more worried about the spy being unwilling.”

“You think the Wraith might be able to force someone's will,” Rodney guessed.

Elizabeth nodded, massaging each of his toes. “We know so little about them. I do not like to be surprised or caught off guard.”

He allowed a small smirk. “I don't think they'd make you massage my foot.”

His toes wriggled under her touch. Elizabeth scowled and threw his foot off her lap. She deduced, “Your foot wasn't really numb, was it?”

“I'm not complaining.” Rodney sat back and crossed his arms casually.

She rolled her eyes and warned him, “You will have to return the favour sometime, you know.”


	6. Childhood's End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after Rodney takes the ZPM back to Atlantis.

Elizabeth walked Rodney back to the embarkation room. She didn't look very happy. It seemed the only reason she was with him was to make sure he did take the ZPM back to the planet.

“Lizbeth,” Rodney began defensively.

She shot a glare at him. “Have you found any justification for taking it?”

He looked like he did have some points in his defence, but Elizabeth knew there would be more argument following whatever he said.

“Just don't talk,” she ordered. “Get the ZPM back online and don't cause too much trouble.”

She quickened her pace, causing Rodney to lengthen his strides. He said quickly, “And what about the next ZedPM? Are we going to leave that one too?”

“This is different,” she replied shortly. “This ZPM won't work here.”

He had to concede on that one - he himself had reported that. Elizabeth noted his silence with relief. She couldn't handle any tirades with him. Even if he was wrong, he was able to make his argument seem so logical. They reached the embarkation room not long after that. The 'gate was already dialled up and Lt. Ford was waiting.

Elizabeth implored of them, “Make it fast.”

“Will do, m'am,” Ford promised.

She watched the two of them move to the 'gate. Rodney turned and told her firmly, “If it makes you happy, I do not feel morally superior.”

“Go!” Elizabeth commanded fiercely.


	7. Poisoning the Well

The return to Atlantis from Hoff was a rather gloomy event. Everyone took to their respective places of solace after the debriefing had ended. For Rodney McKay, this solace was to be found at a nondescript balcony overlooking the stretch of ocean that surrounded the city.

He didn't move when he heard the door behind him. He was about to cover up his being there with a comment about the weather when he heard her voice.

“I thought I might find you here,” Elizabeth Weir commented.

 _Typical_ , thought Rodney as she approached him. Without invitation, she stopped beside him – a little too close – and informed him, “We won't be helping them again. Our relations are friendly but closed.”

“Good,” Rodney said tersely. “They treat their people like expendable lab rats.”

Elizabeth allowed a smile as she said teasingly, “I seem to remember you signing up for experimental gene therapy.”

“A necessity,” he defended, then added as she opened her mouth, “The Hoffans didn't _need_ to mass murder to protect themselves. They could have put more energy into actual defence.”

“They don't possess your way of thinking, obviously,” Weir commented dryly.

It was hard to tell if her words contained a lecture or not. Rodney studied her face for a moment, discerning not reproof, but pity, in her eyes. Noticing his scrutiny, Elizabeth said, “Don't get me wrong – I disagree also. It does create some unease within me about Atlantis and myself. I just hope we are never that desperate.”

“Somehow I think you'll never let us reach that,” McKay told her sincerely.

Dr. Weir knew she shouldn't find it altogether surprising that he'd paid her a compliment, but it was still an unexpected moment. She did not show anything of her thoughts in her face, but inwardly she was pleased. A bit of encouragement was all that he needed to improve.

Elizabeth rested her hands on the railing casually. She said frankly, “I am not here to talk about ethics. I'm here because I want you to talk to Dr. Beckett.”

“He's not that type of doctor,” Rodney corrected, indignant at what she was suggesting.

Elizabeth managed a small smile. “I know, Rodney. I am not worried about you.”

“Oh.”

He sounded disappointed that her attention was not wholly on him. Weir he was always eager to gain sympathy, but very reluctant to explain why.

“I am worried about Carson,” Elizabeth continued, allowing some of her concern to permeate her words. “He barely said two words during the debriefing. I think it would help if you talked to him.”

“I'm not going to talk to someone who has a history of wanting to stick needles into me,” Rodney stated irritably.

Dr. Weir knew there would be resistance, but she had honestly felt that the scientist would overlook his own insecurities to help a friend. She told him in a voice tinged with rebuke, “If you do not take interest in those close to you, they will be lost before you realise that they were friends.”

Rodney looked up sharply at her, hearing weight in her words. He surmised, “You aren't just talking about Carson, are you?”

“No, I'm not,” Elizabeth answered truthfully. “Now I know you care more about others than you let on. You may think you're good at hiding it, but you're not.”

Dr. McKay had the grace to look slightly abashed. He said somewhat regretfully, “All I seem to hear from you is how pathetic my faults are.”

“That's not true,” Elizabeth rejoined. “You're a good man and you know it. And I don't suppose you have heard an expression to do with 'warts and all'.”

Rodney didn't speak for another minute or two. He drew his jacket closer around him when the breeze sharpened. He asked tentatively when he found his voice, “Do you really think Carson will talk to me?”

“I don't see why not. Just don't push it when it comes to your charms.”

She certainly hoped he caught the hint about his charms. The wind reached a point where it was almost blowing them off the balcony. Dr. McKay moved towards the door, though he stopped for just a few more moments.

“You see the good in everyone,” Rodney said, delivering the compliment with ease. “This expedition needs you almost as much as it needs me.”

He was foremost confident in his abilities and Elizabeth did not dispute his thinking. If he thought her at his level, then the praise was truly valuable. She hoped that Rodney would confide in her more now that he seemed to think her equal.


	8. Underground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before the last scene.

The debriefing had been quiet with embarrassed and awkward movements on John Sheppard's part. There had been no dressing down – in fact, Dr. Weir had avoided the subject of failure all together. She listened with polite patience then dismissed the team easily. She did her best not to show her agitation. She mostly succeeded and no one lingered to see this emotion. Or so she thought.

Elizabeth walked to one of the glass walls of the debriefing room and crossed her arms. She looked out, expelling an exasperated sigh. She didn't know how to express her thoughts on the matter – certainly not to a flyboy like John. She didn't feel she could dress him down directly.

“Well that was awkward,” a voice said dryly behind her.

Startled, Elizabeth turned her head to see Rodney McKay standing behind her, power bar in hand. She wondered how she had not seen him stay behind. She said briefly in response, “Yes, it was.”

Rodney studied her side on face for a moment then demanded, “Are you going to give him one of your lectures?”

“Here I was keeping them just for you,” quipped Elizabeth, rewarded with a half scowl, half small smile from her head scientist.

Rodney moved beside her and also looked out the glass wall. He adopted a slouch which brought a smile to Weir's lips. She queried while studying the pose, “Are you friends with John?”

“What do you mean?” Rodney demanded suspiciously.

Elizabeth smiled gently. “During the debriefing, you copied his stances no less than ten times.”

“I did not!”

“You did, even that little smirk of his.”

“That smirk? Why would I copy that?”

“John is a popular person…”

“I don't need to copy him to be popular!” exclaimed Rodney indignantly.

Elizabeth could no longer contain the laugh welling up inside her. She pressed her hand over her mouth, but it escaped her lips. Rodney realised she was laughing and tried to feel and look hurt, but instead he found an unwanted spasm of his mouth curving upwards. She prodded, “Well, as the accused you may defend yourself.”

Rodney was thoughtful for a moment then admitted haltingly, “Maybe – just maybe – I am imitating Major Sheppard. It's not because I want a flyboy's glory, it may be due to – ”

“Rodney, I get it,” she interrupted to save him from more embarrassment. “You respect him. He's your friend.”

Dr. McKay tried to make a casual shrug, but he made a half-hearted attempt. He nodded to her words, then said smugly, “You drink coffee the same way I do.”

“You copied me.”

“No, no, no, I did it first.”

“No, no, no,” Elizabeth repeated, grinning.

Rodney's lips twitched. He inwardly cursed the smiling spasm. He changed the subject by asking hopefully, “So are you going to tell Sheppard off?”

“About the Genii?” Elizabeth paused slightly. “Yes. I am unsure of exactly what to say. Are you suggesting I lecture him?”

Pleased that she was taking him seriously, Rodney considered agreeing to the idea of a lecture. Then he glanced at her trusting eyes. She was waiting for a sincere answer and was turning to him – him of all people – to help her. She deserved a genuine answer from him. He told her, “No, a lecture would only make him defiant. Play on his ego. The other team managed to get allies didn't they? People like Sheppard don't like to be reminded of these things.”

Elizabeth considered his words for a few moments. Then she awarded him with soft appreciation in her captivating brown eyes. She said approvingly, “Thank you, Rodney. That's a good suggestion.”

“Always happy to help,” the scientist said, a little more cheerfully than he intended.

Elizabeth studied his face. She asked with a smirk, “I won't catch you saying something like that outside this room, will I?”

“Whatever gave you that idea, Lizbeth?”

Rodney managed to keep the smile from his face but there was a twinkle in his eyes as he turned and left the room. Elizabeth watched him go, finding herself unsurprised at what she'd brought out in him.


	9. Home

“Well that was a total waste of my valuable time,” Rodney griped as soon as his feet landed on the floor of the 'gate room.

Elizabeth didn't want to agree out loud. She allowed a small sigh of disappointment that she masked with a deep breath. She had been thrilled for those few hours that she thought she was on Earth. She announced a debriefing in an hour before retreating to her office to gather her thoughts.

Once there, she realised Rodney was trailing after her. He was frowning, clearly on the warpath. She could almost see the steam rising from his darkened face. He repeated himself in disgust, “A waste of my valuable time. They could have at least told us before I put so much effort into it.”

“Weren't you at all happy to see everyone again, even if it wasn't real?” Elizabeth asked in puzzlement.

He snorted, then answered dryly, “There's nothing for me on Earth but my cat.”

Elizabeth knew better than to patronise him. She eased into the chair behind her desk and made a quick inventory of the pens in her vicinity. She supplied after another few moments, “I have a dog that I left in the care of a friend.”

“Dogs have a nasty habit of running away,” Rodney said vaguely.

 _They're more loyal than cats_ , she thought but did not voice her comeback. She instead settled for leaning back in her chair and confidently telling him, “Sedge wouldn't run away from a familiar environment.”

It was a challenge. Her head scientist shot back sullenly, “You'd be surprised.”

Elizabeth couldn't help but imagine SGA-1 encountering a canine animal. She didn't meet his eyes, afraid she might start laughing at the mental image. She mused lightly, “I think I should bring Sedge over to your place some time when we're on Earth.”

Rodney didn't look too pleased with the suggestion. He said flatly, “That would not be a good idea. I'm sure you know cats and dogs aren't exactly bedfellows.”

“You're forgetting one thing, though,” Elizabeth informed him with a smile. “A dog and a cat in the same household can end up becoming intimate friends.”


	10. The Storm

A sneeze exploded somewhere over her ear drum, and Elizabeth winced as the static coursed after it. She lifted two fingers to tap at her radio, asking, “How's it coming, Rodney?”

“You could at least sound sympathetic,” the answering growl shivered over her ear.

“Am I interrupting you?”

“What – no. This is so basic I could probably do it in my sleep.”

“Only probably?” Rodney's indignant spluttering turned into a full seated cough, again shooting more feedback over the radio. Elizabeth checked her pockets in some sympathy, pulling out one sodden tissue from the recesses of her uniform. She sighed. “Sorry, Rodney. I don't have anything to help you with.”

“What's taking Carson so long on the mainland?” the scientist rambled on breathlessly. “You'd think he'd have the decency to show up with a flu tablet, or something.”

Elizabeth patted her pants pockets again, just in case, but apart from one or two patches of damp cloth, she couldn't find anything to put Rodney – and even herself – out of misery. She stopped briefly to glance out at the surging sea and the ominously dark horizon closing in on them. She rested her fingers over her radio again, wondering whether or not to just cut him off so as to not hear his diatribe.

Sympathy won as usual.

“With any luck, we'll find a box of tissues in the control room,” she coaxed.

Rodney's voice crackled with suspicion. “Are you finished already?”

“Yes.”

“You can't be finished. I'm not even finished yet.”

“I assure you, Rodney, it's done.”

“This is so not time for competition,” sulked McKay. “You're just trying to psyche me out, right?”

Elizabeth tried very hard to fight the smile spreading over her lips. “Keep going. I'll meet up with you on the way back. I just want to check in with Major Sheppard.”

“You didn't answer my – Lizbeth!”


	11. The Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before the last scene.

Rodney swiped an impatient hand over his sodden laptop, splattering water across the last remaining dry patch of his laboratory wall. His eyes lifted to the higher planes of existence that most likely floated just above his head – a better position to make his life miserable. “Oh, come on. Enough. I know you Ancients get a kick out of messing with logic, but this is ridiculous. Because, obviously, my lab should have been spared. Not Zelenka's. Just a reminder for the future.”

“I don't think the Ancients have the time to interfere with your logic,” a wry voice commented from the door way.

Elizabeth was somehow not amazed that Rodney could manage to juggle a mug full of freezing storm water, a ruined laptop and an umbrella, all somehow pinched between five fingers. He lifted his free hand in an abortive greeting, before reaching out to catch the laptop as it slipped out from his grasp.

Elizabeth frowned, eyes straying to his arm. “You're still bleeding.”

His own gaze travelled down briefly, and the confusion flitting across his face dissolved into a sudden pained recognition. Rodney's cheeks tightened. “Well, maybe some of us have time to go running off to the infirmary with every little scratch…”

“That hasn't stopped you before,” she pointed out, smiling through her concern.

Balancing his laptop back onto his other arm, he gestured around the lab dismissively. “This city isn't exactly going to dry out on its own, is it? Unless you too can bend the rules of logic.”

Moving across the lab and surveying the wet floor cautiously, Elizabeth stopped a few steps away and tucked her damp hair behind her ears. She wove her fingers together for a few long moments before holding his gaze. “I wanted to thank you for – ”

The words jerked out of reach of her mouth as Rodney dove forward, throwing the umbrella up. An arm planted itself around Elizabeth's waist, snagging her against him just as a monsoon of water splattered down from the ceiling, gushing harmlessly over their sheltered heads. Elizabeth accepted the laptop that he shoved towards her without protest. Soon enough, the water subsided.

“Rodney,” she said after a pause. “Thank you.”

His wide blue eyes peered down at her. “For what, Lizbeth?”

Elizabeth glanced to the large twinkling device sharing the small space with them. She looked from it to Rodney. He shrugged. “I didn't want any more valuable systems damaged.”

“That's valuable?” she asked, glancing back to the device.

“Only the thing that's going to pump out the entire East Pier. So, no, not at all valuable.”

Elizabeth sized up the device and shook her head, smiling. Seeing how she focused on it, Rodney blinked and back-pedalled hastily. “But, um, not as valuable as you. Obviously, you're still the most valuable system in the city. Otherwise I wouldn't, you know…” He waved helplessly at the umbrella, with the arm that wasn't still wrapped around her waist.

Suddenly remembering himself, Rodney withdrew from Elizabeth quickly, muttering something that sounded like an apology under his breath, but it was too quiet to tell.

“I was going to say, thank you for what you did during the storm,” she rejoined to cover his embarrassment. “That was very brave of you, Rodney. But the rest of the expedition should be returning shortly, so you should get that arm looked at in the infirmary. And then I'm sure you'd like to start pumping out the East Pier before Zelenka is around to offer suggestions.”

Handing back the laptop, Elizabeth turned and left. Watching the empty door way, Rodney shook out his traitorous arm and followed.


	12. The Defiant One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

Hunched under a balcony on the East side of the city, Rodney McKay forced his fingers to unclench and nimbly work through the crystals that hung like icicles, in just the same way that they did outside every Lantean apartment. He only became aware of the rain thundering down barely an arms length away when his shoes squealed over the slippery plastiglass that Atlantis was constructed of. It wasn't too much longer after he nearly went tumbling out into the ocean when he realised that Elizabeth was standing on the walkway a few feet away.

“Make yourself useful and get me a flashlight,” he announced.

“Rodney, I don't know if you've noticed this, but it's raining.”

Rodney peered over his shoulder at her briefly. “Oh, like the wet patch on the back of my pants couldn't tell me that. Get me a flashlight.”

A deep breath echoed through the rain, almost but not quite an exasperated sigh. Elizabeth crouched, crawling underneath the balcony until she could reach out to touch his shoulder. Rodney didn't move. “If you're here to make me talk about what happened with Gaul, I just want to point out that it's not a brilliant idea to surprise a scientist who has his hands in the city's sewage circuits. And I'd also like it noted that I don't need to talk.”

“Right. That's why you're sitting out in the freezing rain and fiddling.”

Rodney withdrew his hands from the crystals, resting his back against the city's outer wall so that he could sit comfortably. He narrowed his eyes at her bedraggled appearance. “Forget the flashlight. You should have brought an umbrella. How long were you standing there?”

Unanswering, she crossed her arms and scooted to sit beside him. Alright, silence was good. Silence was very good at this point. Rodney grumbled approvingly. They sat there while the rain splattered heavily against the balcony above them. His pants squelched when he tried to move, so it was probably wiser to just sit still.

“I can't feel my feet,” Elizabeth said softly.

“Here.” Rodney reached down and pulled her feet into his lap. He slid off her shoes, rubbing his hands over her toes. After a moment, he paused. “Your feet aren't really numb, are they?”

“You owe me this favour, if I recall correctly.”

“Not for much longer,” he informed her, and resumed the foot massage.


	13. Hot Zone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before the episode.

“No. Absolutely not. No, no, no. No.”

Elizabeth looked up from reports on her desk to find Rodney looming at the entrance to her office, scowling ominously. She rested her shoulders back in her chair before tackling the situation. “I didn't expect such eloquence from you, Rodney.”

“Well, I'm sorry. It's surprisingly difficult to express oneself when one has silt caked onto one's shoes.”

“One must make sacrifices,” Elizabeth said blandly.

Rodney took three long strides into the room and held up a slimy object in his hand. He shook it, sending dark splashes flying over the floor. Flecks of soiled white began to appear amongst the slime. He explained gruffly, “This used to be a sock.”

“This used to be a clean office.”

“I just spent the last three hours walking through sludge to ensure that a particularly filthy section of the city was structurally sound. Guess what. It is. And now you're making me walk through it _again_?”

“This time I want you to take a full engineering team with you,” Elizabeth replied, lowering the pitch of her voice authoritatively. “I trust your opinion, but you have just one pair of eyes. The storm did a lot of damage and I want to leave no room for error. Take some people down there. Go over it with a toothpick, if you have to.”

“We ran out of toothpicks a month ago,” Rodney pointed out gleefully.

“ _Rodney_.”

He glared. Her eyebrows rose into one uncompromising line. He shifted his feet awkwardly. Her stern frown deepened. Rodney's shoulders slumped. “Fine. But you owe me two pairs of socks.”

He moved his hand forward, as though to deposit the disgusting sock onto her desk. Elizabeth cleared her throat loudly and gestured towards the door. Rodney found himself battling the asinine desire to poke his tongue out at her. He settled for grumbling, “This is the last time I let you exile me to the suburbs.”

“Suburbs?” Elizabeth laughed.

“Atlantis is a considerable size, to the point where we should start dividing it up into postal codes. And I, for one, intend to inhabit the prime postal code of the main Atlantis tower.”

He managed to mask most of his hurt expression as she continued to chuckle. But the passing seconds made it seem funnier to him as well, and Rodney reluctantly offered a laugh of his own. Covering for his lapse in mirth, he shook the sock one more time and turned to leave.

“I'll miss you!” Elizabeth called impulsively.

The sock sailed back at her.


	14. Sanctuary

The blue glow of the Stargate receded, leaving the faces of those watching from the control room colourless and plain. Tension hovered for barely a few moments before the curious crowd dispersed, voices tainted with both interest and a rejoining of the banal. Elizabeth watched the empty circle for a few moments, contemplating, before musing, "We may have just forfeited our first real chance at a worthy exchange of supplies and ideas."

“Ideas?” Rodney snorted from beside her, crossing his arms. “What sort of ideas could they possibly give us?”

“Spirituality, a sense of inner peace...the opportunity to attain cultural fulfilment,” Elizabeth finished, smiling wistfully.

If she didn't know any better, Rodney began to seem as if he was clearing his throat compulsively. But further investigation out of the corner of her eye revealed him sucking in his cheeks and frowning at out at 'gate. She turned to him. “Do you realise what we have lost?”

“Major Sheppard's virtue?”

The technician on duty snickered into his laptop.

“No!” Elizabeth couldn't help the laugh curdling in her throat. “There are more important things to trade than grain...or coffee.”

Rodney's expression became guarded. “You shouldn't have made me run those scans, then.”

“Not to split hairs, Rodney, but you were the one who insisted.”

He watched her stonily, before reaching up to skim the palm of his hand over his forehead. Worry petered over his frown until he asked as calmly as he could, “Is it that noticeable?”

“Is what noticeable?” Elizabeth was bemused.

“Sheppard must have said something,” Rodney continued gloomily. “With all the incompetence I have to deal with in my department, it's hardly surprising that my hairline has started receding.”

Leaning over to peer intently at his scalp, Elizabeth smothered her grin with a hand and made thoughtful noises. His left ear gave a remarkable twitch, a reaction that she had to admit was cute, though at his expense. She spent several more long seconds pretending to be concerned over his hair, before he finally snapped. “What's taking you so long? Have you found lice or something? Oh God, I probably need to see Beckett now. Do you think he has one of those special comb things? I had lice in fourth grade and...”

“And there's nothing wrong with your hair now,” Elizabeth assured him. “In fact, I think it makes you look more distinguished.”

Interest sparked in his eyes. “Really? You think so?”

“Of course. Give it five more years and I'm sure you'll look like the most distinguished member here. Although, I don't suppose you'll have gained much maturity by then...”

Rodney's lips twitched and he evaluated her uncertainly, probably trying to figure out if she really was insulting him, or if it was an appropriate moment to exercise some laughter. The thought he was giving the situation warred over his face and Elizabeth knew she ought to put him out of his misery. A placating smile cracked the stern expression she had been fighting to maintain.

“Or it could just be lice,” she offered.

“No, you've said it! You can't take back something you've said. You think I look distinguished. You like my hair. Dis-tin-guished.”

“Dis-tin-guished?” repeated Elizabeth, amused. “Though it's hardly as interesting as John's hair...”

Rodney assessed this, panic thinning his lips. “Wait a minute. I'm pretty sure distinguished trumps interesting. Wouldn't you agree?”

“Seems like Chaya found his hair very interesting.”

“Noted, but her opinion isn't the important one, is it?” Rodney pressed.

Elizabeth paused for a moment, taken back by his intent gaze. “No, I suppose not.”


	15. Before I Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set just over a minute after the last scene.

Pacing was a skill that Rodney McKay had perfected to a superb, if clinical, art. Hands wearing holes in the pockets of his pants, he fussed for a few more minutes, just a few he promised, before making calculated moves towards the balcony. He stopped dead again and backed up two – just two! – steps, retrieving one hand to tap at his chin thoughtfully. Once the voices of the nearest intruders to his sanctum had faded, he dropped the pensive act and re-attempted his scheme.

Although, this particularly common part of Atlantis was hardly any place to turn into a sanctum, however temporary its use. Soon enough, some of the passing expedition members would figure out that he was poorly disguising an approach towards the lone figure on the balcony.

Rodney lifted his chin and bravely ventured forward towards the door. Skidding right up to the edge, he abruptly reached out to run his hand over the plexiglass, importantly jerking his head up and down several times. Glancing out of the corner of his eyes at the technician striding past him, he waited just for the right moment to announce in an important voice, “All external exits seem to be functioning properly.”

The technician made no comment, merely moving along. Rodney let out a long, deep breath.

“Rodney, did you say something?” Elizabeth asked from outside.

Sprung! Rodney coughed nervously and shuffled out onto the balcony. Securing his hands back into his pockets, he slouched his shoulders and grunted a greeting. Her lips pursed into a small smile, before her focus returned to the object in her hands. Peering over at what looked like a brown pot, Rodney probed, “What's that?”

“Hmm? Oh. John gave it to me. For my birthday.”

“Oh there we go,” Rodney said, disgusted. “He always has to make sure there's an apple on the teacher's desk before the bell goes.”

When her eyes moved back up to his face, Rodney noted with some apprehension that the usual twinkle was missing, though her eyebrows slowly shifted up her forehead. The firm lines setting around her mouth were enough warning for him, but Elizabeth merely asked, “Is this always a competition to you, Rodney?”

“What? No! Sheppard's the one turning this into a competition. I got you a present and I made the rather impetuous decision to tell him, so he went ahead and gave you one before I had the chance.”

“Rodney.” A frustrated sigh slipped from her lips. “I don't suppose it means much to you, but I'm not in the mood for this right now.”

Something sharp pinged against the left side of his chest. Rodney rubbed the patch of shirt over the area, perplexed, before realising that he was offended. His hands dipped back down to clench material inside his pockets until he heard and felt some of the stitches popping. He said stiffly, “Fine. I'll try to find room in your schedule, you know, a block of free space you might feel like using to talk to me.”

Elizabeth tracked his movement towards the door, before reaching out to catch his elbow. Stride faltering, he stopped and glanced over at her, not bothering to hood the frown shadowing his features. Holding his stare evenly, she gave a gentle tug until his body grudgingly leaned towards her. She lead him out to the railing again, dropping her hand from his elbow at last to press briefly at the small of his back.

“I'm sorry, that was rude of me,” she said quietly.

Rodney shifted his feet. “Understandable. I think. Are you coming to the briefing now? Sheppard said you'd be along in a minute, but I noticed that when you didn't arrive after sixty seconds that maybe you needed me to come get you or something. Or your watch could be slow, but I guess not. This isn't to do with you is it? I mean, the other you, the old you. Not that you – she – was too old or anything…”

“I will be fine.”

“But that means you might not be fine, you might _think_ that you're fine. And five years later you'll be sitting on Heightmeyer's special chair telling her how you weren't actually fine.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Elizabeth acknowledged, smile breaking at last. “Thank you. I might not be fine now, but I will be. I think I will be. I have so much to look forward to, so many birthdays.”

“Hopefully not ten thousand more birthdays,” he said with a tentative grin.

The small laugh was reward enough for Rodney, and he found breathing a little easier now that the air between them wasn't so heavy. A small twinkle lurked in the corner of her eyes as she asked, “So about this birthday present you got me…?”

“Oh. Right.” Rodney cleared his throat, feeling panic rise in his throat. “It's in your office, but it's not imperative or anything. You can check it out later. Briefing now, remember?”

It wasn't until some time after Major Sheppard's team had left through the Stargate that Elizabeth Weir managed to find her way back to her office, but the wait was well worth it. Smiling down at the standard issue mug adorning her desk, she lifted it up and read the words written neatly on a piece of masking tape that was stuck to the mug.

**Property of Dr Elizabeth Weir – keep citrus products away.**


	16. The Brotherhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the opening titles.

“Rodney, a moment please?”

Affecting a long suffering sigh, Rodney McKay turned around and drew up his shoulders in what he hoped was an imposing and dignified gesture. When confronted with her flat, unimpressed expression, he threw in a hand pointing back over his shoulder.

“Tick, tick, Lizbeth,” he announced. “If you want us to find any semblance of a ZedPM any time soon, we should be getting back to the planet...unless you have a more valuable use of my time?”

In what he hoped was a subtle manoeuvre, Rodney dropped his hand to his hair, smoothing over wayward tufts in the hope he could look a little more distinguished. He added a smile for good measure. Elizabeth's lips warred with a frown before breaking out into mirroring a reluctant smile of her own.

She shook her head. “No, nothing so valuable, I suppose. It's just something that Major Sheppard brought to my attention.”

Tingles of mild discomfort approached panic, squirming in Rodney's chest. “Oh great. Look, I was going to tell you about the sewage leak, but I figured you had problems enough with the dwindling supplies that you didn't need to lie awake at night wondering if your toilet was going to drown you...I know it kept _me_ up the past few days...”

“Let's pretend for a moment that I didn't hear that,” Elizabeth interrupted, her amused expression failing to abate. “John tells me he is concerned with your attitude on off-world missions. According to him, you aren't enjoying yourself enough.”

“What? How am I supposed to enjoy myself when lives are at stake? I have to concentrate on trying to find that ZedPM hidden somewhere – one which might not even be there. What am I meant to be enjoying?”

“I tend to like thinking of the ZPM as half full...”

“...too bad ours isn't even half empty at this point,” Rodney reminded her.

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly in exasperation. Forced patience softened her voice. “Rodney. In this galaxy, cut off from Earth, your team is your only family. If you do not allow yourself to enjoy your time with them, you are wasting a perfectly good opportunity to strengthen your closest bonds.”

“But I enjoy my time with you,” Rodney grumbled, droppings his arms to cross them stoutly in front of his chest. “I shouldn't have to put in any more effort.”

An odd twinkle sparked in Elizabeth Weir's eyes. Her smile returned, broader and more sure. “I'm glad you think your time is well spent with me. Would it be too difficult to find out if you will also enjoy time spent with your team?”

Rodney mumbled something in response and hurried off towards the gateroom, hopefully before she noticed the burn he could feel rising on his cheeks.


	17. Letters From Pegasus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set towards the end of the episode.

For five minutes already, her desk had swum before her eyes. Elizabeth sipped water from a cup, clenching hard enough to dent the plastic underneath her fingers. She rubbed at her eyes slowly, but hard enough to make her eyeballs ache.

“I do not need glasses,” she insisted quietly.

Her fingers came away from her face damp. Briskly, Elizabeth brushed her palms over her cheeks, smoothing out unbidden tears and worry lines. When she remembered the camera blinking opposite her, she reached out a trembling hand to touch the off button. For a moment, she hesitated, unsure if she had or hadn't seen a glimpse of Simon's face in the rim of the lens.

No. His face wasn't…it couldn't…

“Less coffee I think,” Elizabeth decided. “And more sleep.”

“I tried that for a while, but the idea of impending doom kept me up.”

Hurriedly casting her face down to the desk still wavering in her vision, Elizabeth responded calmly, “Rodney, have a seat.”

“Uh, you know, I think I'd rather stand because if I sit down even for a second, I might – you know – fall asleep or something. And you do not want me falling asleep right now.”

“Why, is the sewage system still in need of your skilful expertise?” she asked dryly.

Rodney's expression became scandalised, though she didn't mistake the twitch of a smile on his lips. “No. I don't think you want me snoring in here.”

“You snore?”

“I actually have proof. See, I made a recording…”

“Do I want to know why?”

“No, no, I guess not.” Rodney stopped, a frown creeping onto his face.

The idea of her head scientist taping his nocturnal sounds for some sort of experiment steamed all remaining moisture from her face. Elizabeth smiled carefully and patted her desk. At his bemusement, she explained, “Then don't sit in a chair. Sit here.”

“And that will help _how_?”

“Oh, I don't know. Hard surface, perhaps? Or I could keep talking into your ear to make sure you don't doze off.”

Rodney considered this and shrugged. Throwing a quick nervous glance over his shoulder, he gingerly leaned on the desk before shimmying closer. Seeing him bite his lip and wiggle uncomfortably, Elizabeth clamped her teeth together to keep from laughing, but her jaw soon throbbed with the effort.

“You're laughing at me,” Rodney realised, chest heaving in a sigh.

“No. Not at all.”

“Well go on, everyone else has a laugh at my expense.”

“Rodney.” She tilted her head back to regard his narrowed blue eyes. “I trust that you will find some way of staving off the Wraith attack. I trust that in two weeks time, we'll still be in this office, having some banal conversation about sewage, socks or…”

“Sheppard,” Rodney supplied quickly.

Elizabeth laughed, remembered herself and threw her hand over her mouth. But he was smiling down at her. Although, smile wouldn't exactly be the definition. Smirking in that same insufferable way, enough to make her entirely forget about desperately reaching out to Earth for help, to forget about breaking up with Simon over video…

“Did you record a message after all?” she queried abruptly, trying to shake off her thoughts.

“Yes, actually. Don't look so surprised. You know Stargate Command would want to hear everything I have to say about the expedition.”

The same insufferable, know-it-all smirk was still there. But Elizabeth could swear there were distant sparks in his eyes. Maybe she imagined it. Those eyes…so much easier to lose herself in than Simon's.

Rodney cleared his throat. “So. How about you?”

“Oh the usual…” Elizabeth paused as his face shifted lower to meet her eye level. “A brief report, messages for some of the families that lost people…” His breath warmed her face. “And…and something I had to say to someone.”

Rodney nodded hesitantly. “Me too. I mean, you know, something to say to someone. My sister.”

“I didn't know you had a sister.”

He said nothing, shifting on the desk awkwardly. When Elizabeth caught his gaze again, she felt as though barriers had risen up in his blue eyes again, shutting her out. But she felt his sigh, hot on her cheeks. She also felt the accidental touch of his knee on her arm, felt the jolt of his reaction. Rodney muttered some kind of apology under his breath, but she couldn't be sure.

“Rodney.” She found her voice soft, needy. “Do you remember when I came to see you in your lab, after the storm?”

“Eh, sure. What about it?”

“You said I was valuable. Did you mean that?”

Confusion wove over his features, dimming his smile. “Well of course I did. You're the expedition leader. Or hadn't you noticed that? Because if you haven't figured that out by now, then – but you know, that's not even the point. I mean, I think you're a valuable – ”

Elizabeth felt more than heard him fall silent when the gap closed between them and she kissed him. Just for a moment, one simple moment, she could forget about the messages going back to the Milky Way Galaxy, forget about the hive ships…

Rodney pulled back swiftly, slipping off the desk onto his feet. “I better make sure Zelenka hasn't turned on the self destruct. Or fallen asleep. Because either would be really bad at this point, don't you agree?”

She watched him hurry away, wondering if he felt as perplexed as she did.


	18. The Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the conference.

Absently swatting at a peculiar buzzing in his ears, Rodney McKay contemplated the bench in his lab. When the noise did not desist, he decided to tilt his head to one side and hum in a vain attempt to drown it out. This seemed to numb some of the buzz. Then a hazy film invaded his vision and the buzz was quite forgotten in the mad blinking counterattack that Rodney bravely mounted to fight off the tired twitching in his eyes.

He flattened his hands on the bench and jerked his head side to side. His eyes watered, but then his vision cleared and all buzzing gave way, revealing the steady clipping of shoes behind him. Rodney rolled his eyes. “Look, unless you've somehow come up with any brilliant options – which I so very much doubt – then you can make yourself useful and create some coffee out of thin air.”

“Sorry to disappoint on both fronts,” Elizabeth's voice answered him.

Rodney wheezed in an abortive attempt to simultaneously cough with embarrassment and clear his throat in a manly fashion. He swivelled around on the chair and exclaimed, “Lizbeth! Uh, I thought you were Zelenka. I'm kind of glad you're not. And there's a…ninety-nine percent chance we'll have options of dealing with the Wraith before the week is out. You have the full Doctor Rodney McKay guarantee.”

“What's your guarantee on the remaining one percent?” Elizabeth asked, smile radiating across the short distance between them.

Rodney grasped his knees to keep them from bouncing.

“Direct all complaints to the biology department,” he bit out over clenched teeth.

Elizabeth's eyes fell to his knees and Rodney hastily dropped his arms to his sides. He absently slipped one hand into a pocket of his pants, worrying a hole in the hem. Her smile lost some of its lustre in the silence. She explained neutrally, “Much as the current situation is unnerving, it's not why I came.”

Rodney inhaled sharply, then covered it quickly with a half-hopeful sneer. “You wouldn't happen to have a secret coffee stash?”

“No, but that's not a bad idea," Elizabeth conceded. “Rodney, about last week – ”

“This week is just, oh, a little more important than anything that happened last week. Or maybe I'm the only one losing sleep over the Wraith armada.”

Creases appeared around her eyes. “While I agree – ”

“And you want options by then,” Rodney babbled, fast and furious. “So I need some alone time to meet your deadline.”

Elizabeth started openly at him. She crossed her arms, opened her mouth and closed it again. After a few moments, she let out a breath. “Okay. I didn't realise I was such a hard task master. But Rodney, we should talk about…this.”

Sizing up the now very uncomfortable lack of distance between them, Rodney stabbed three fingers through the hole in his pocket. He felt more than heard the tiny threads tearing apart. Leaning backwards in the chair, he wrenched his hand out of his pocket and snapped it back onto his knee.

“What's there to talk about?” he managed indifferently.

Elizabeth's lips parted for a sigh. “Nothing right now. Get back to work.”

Immediately shifting his attention back around to the bench, Rodney waited until her shoes started tapping off in the opposite direction before sneaking a hooded look over his shoulder. Once the echoes of her footfalls had fully died away, he tapped his radio.

“Patch me through to…” He paused. “Get me Heightmeyer.”


	19. The Siege (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before Elizabeth speaks to Zelenka.

The rational part of Rodney McKay's brain told him that the various compensation systems within the Puddle Jumper kept the gravity as close to nine-point-eight Newtons as possible, but his stomach stubbornly refused to take any notice of this simple function. The floor of the Jumper crested like waves on a rough sea, until he felt last night's power bar surge upwards.

“You alright, Dr McKay?” Grodin enquired from the cargo bay.

“Let's see, three hive ships are closing in on our position and we're flying out to meet them with the slim chance of firing up some ten thousand-year-old satellite that might already be fried beyond anything useful. Ask me next week, huh?”

The technician rolled his eyes and moved off towards the back of the Jumper. Rodney ignored the sideways glance directed at him from Miller, busying himself with a scan of various readouts on the HUD. Not long now – hopefully by then he'd have his sea legs. Or space legs. Whatever. But he'd been in space before, why was this happening now?

The radio crackled and hissed. “Come in, Rodney.”

Forcing himself to swallow any nauseous squirming back down his throat, Rodney choked momentarily before settling back in his chair. “Reading you loud and clear, Lizbeth. What's the problem?”

“No problem,” her voice answered him, almost quiet enough to disappear into static. “Just wanted to wish the three of you some good luck. You're going to need it.”

A mix of cold terror and hot embarrassment washed over Rodney. Tapping his fingers over his knee, he stared blankly through the HUD towards the stars. Focus. He needed to focus. The silence, broken by interspersed interference, pushed hard on his shoulders. His fingers clenched a bunch of wrinkles from of his red flight suit.

“We're also going to need some radio silence,” he said curtly.

Her response was brisk and cool. “I'll still need progress reports.”

“All radio silence...” Rodney repeated, but desisted as two pairs of eyes narrowed in on him. “…except for progress reports, then.”

“Agreed. And Rodney...”

Brushing his hands over the legs of his suit, Rodney became aware of the damp fingerprints permeating the cloth. He jerked his fingers away and began clicking furiously away at the Jumper controls until the HUD winked out. Focus. Focus.

“Yes, Lizbeth?”

A long pause. “Come back in one piece.”

“No problem, I'll just tell the Wraith to stand still for us,” Rodney muttered, not sure if she heard it or not.

“I imagine we'll have much to discuss when you return.”

His chest seized momentarily and Rodney clutched at the front of his flight suit. Hunching in his seat awkwardly, he wondered if he was having a heart attack. It wouldn't be that surprising, given all the stress he'd had to put up with. After a few torturous seconds, his breathing evened out and he dropped his arms to his sides.

And suddenly, he didn't need his reflection in the plexiglass to warn him about the unsure smile twitching at his lips.

“I look forward to it,” he stated carefully. “McKay out.”

The radio faded into silence. Rodney found his feet on solid, completely non-seaside reminiscent floor. He stalked back towards the cargo bay to find his spacesuit, deciding not to check if Miller or Grodin were exchanging suspicious glances. Okay, maybe he checked. Once or twice. But the quiet before the storm was already stealing away those thoughts, and any other thoughts about his boss.

 _Now_ he could focus.


	20. The Siege (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during the montage of setting up guns around the city.

The walls loomed on all sides of Elizabeth Weir as she walked towards the main science labs. The air tasted stale, smacked of desperation and attempted to claw its way down to her lungs. Absently patting down the sides of her jacket, she blew out the breaths that had been choking her. A few more steps cleared her head some more, and then her footfalls became more sure, leading her towards the chair room.

She drew in the sight of Dr. Zelenka and Dr. McKay working on the chair and exchanging terse insults, feeling relief. Letting her shoulders sag, Elizabeth entered the room quietly, simply watching their methodical, if constantly interrupted, work. It made no sense to her, but the smooth and steady flow of Rodney's fingers was mesmerising.

Until he looked up with those equally distracting blue eyes, that is.

Swiftly abandoning his colleague, Rodney rose and settled beside her, still watching Zelenka with a scrutinising frown. Elizabeth waited until the Czech scientist's attention was entirely on the chair before allowing her neutral expression slip. The warmth of Rodney's presence, her shoulder inches from his, threatened to overwhelm her.

“I believe we agreed to discuss something of great importance,” she began, official and clipped.

Rodney shifted in her peripheral vision. “Now? Haven't you got a date with Colonel Everett in the boxing arena?”

“I wish.” Elizabeth smiled wryly. “He didn't quite make the weigh in, and seems to have made himself scarce since. Something or rather about stashing armaments around the place.”

An odd sort of snort came from her right. If Elizabeth didn't know him as she did, she would mistake the sound for dismissive boredom. As it was…she suspected he had a swallowed a laugh. It seemed that in the time since kissing him – she could admit it had been that – every gesture or movement he made signified something only she could see.

After a few long seconds, Rodney commented flatly, “This may come as a surprise to you, but I do want to discuss certain…recent developments. The, ah, interesting recent developments, I mean. But this is not the time.” His voice dropped a few decibels. “Not that I don't regret that.”

Elizabeth felt her breath catch, but it formed a pleasant warm lump at the back of her throat. “Do you have a minute?”

“Lizbeth…what would you say to me if you had a minute?”

“Then I would say nothing,” she answered quietly.

Rodney frowned. “Doesn't that defeat the purp – ”

Moving to silence him, she moulded her fingers around his fist. Rodney tensed, but his hand opened, allowing her to slip her palm against his. A trail of sparked skin followed the wake of his thumb as he brushed it over the back of her hand. Elizabeth pressed her lips together hard, keeping her eyes focused on Zelenka as he worked. The tentative squeeze of his hand stole her attention entirely and she returned the gesture. His breathing, she noticed, had evened out. Her fingers found his pulse in a vein, slow and steady.

The minute passed.

“I'm having enough trouble getting any work done with Zelenka here,” Rodney groused. “I don't need you adding to this break in my concentration.”

“Be safe, Rodney,” Elizabeth requested.

“Yes, yes, I know you can't live without me.”

She dared to tilt a smile in his direction. “Oh, Rodney…”

Deep lines of impatience wrote themselves onto his forehead. Elizabeth forced her smile away, nodding briskly at him. His hand fell from hers. As she walked from the room, she felt his eyes boring hot on her back.

It wasn't until she was several corridors away that she paused, resting her temples between two fingers and staring unseeingly at the ground. Drawing a deep breath, she released her forehead and fixed her steady gaze ahead. He was right. This was not the time.


	21. The Siege (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the end of the episode.

There was something pleasantly mesmerising about a pulsing Zero Point Module. Rodney McKay watched it intensely, hands planted either side of the precious power source. Once or twice his vision gave way to exhausted grey, but then some nearby irritation would cough, plough past outside in loud clapping boots or give a shout, and he'd be back to blinking burning eyeballs and wondering where his coffee mug was.

It took him a few minutes to realise he was alone with the ZedPM, coffee-less, sleep-less and feeling defeated. And then it was another few minutes before he realised he wasn't actually alone.

“Rodney, you look dead on your feet.”

A panicked tingle worked its way into his guts and Rodney turned quickly around to regard Elizabeth. Casually resting one hand on his hip, he gestured towards the doorway with the other. “Oh, you know, no rest for the intelligent.”

Elizabeth's disbelieving smile answered him, as she crossed her arms and gave him that look. Finding nothing else to do with his hands, Rodney quickly clasped them, wrung them twice, then dropped them back into his pockets. He nearly lost one hand down a certain hole in the process. Jerking that hand back out, he pushed it back over his hair and met a surprising amount of resistance.

He cleared his throat. “Two words, Lizbeth. Progress report.”

“Alright then.” Her smile refused to abate. “Give me the run down.”

“To draw on the vernacular of the monosyllabically minded – A-OK.”

“Everything's all good then?” Elizabeth asked, eyes searching him.

Uncomfortably, Rodney shifted his attention back to the ZedPM and briefly drank in the overpowering security that washed over him. Casting it aside, he grumbled, “Good as in the city is still smouldering, and smelling like a chain smoker – but on the plus side, we're not on the brink of being blown to pieces anymore. So by 'good', I think you mean that.”

Footsteps quietly approached him. “Get some sleep.”

“No, no, I'm good,” Rodney protested vehemently to his hands.

“So by 'good', you mean…”

“Exhausted, wired, vertically challenged, but good. Definitely good.”

“Ah.”

A temptingly warm hand slid from the small of his back up to gently work its way into a knot at his shoulder. Rodney glared straight at the wall but his legs decided they were quite comfortable where they were, and certainly wouldn't be allowing him to escape. Not that he wanted to. He supposed he would just have to turn back around and face her, because that was, you know, the polite thing to do.

“I know I don't have the best timing,” Elizabeth began, nibbling at one corner of her lips in a way almost as mesmerising as the ZedPM. “But then when is the right time for…us?”

“Could you ask an easier question – how about the meaning of life, for example?” Rodney optioned hopefully.

She shook her head. “No, Rodney. Don't ignore this. I know you're tired, I know this is a trying time, but I need to know. Is this time right for you?”

Alarm wriggled its way up his throat momentarily, before Rodney forced himself to swallow. Focus, focus – on _what?_ The doorway was hardly appealing, but it seemed wrong to look at her lips and try to remember that day in her office when she kissed…

Rodney eased his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. He tensed, expecting her to push him off, but Elizabeth's body relaxed under his touch. Her hands returned to his back, moving slowly in undefined patterns over his shirt. Closing his eyes, he muttered, “You're warm. And soft. And this isn't just an excuse to get me to sleep is it? Because it's not working.”

“If you say so, Rodney.”

“But I might just rest my eyes, because I need to concentrate in a few minutes.”

This was a bad idea, realised only when Rodney discovered that his eyelids wouldn't open, and she was too warm to let go of and…well, he'd never fallen asleep on his feet before, and this was definitely worth studying –

“I'm ready if you are,” he mumbled into her ear before dozing off.


	22. Intruder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before the start of the episode.

“Rodney, please talk to me.”

His steps halted and Elizabeth didn't miss his fists clenching at his sides. The muted lighting of the _Daedalus_ failed to give him a shadow. She waited, hoped, as he slowly turned back towards her, but made no moves to close the distance. Mere blank boredom greeted her, though a single deep line above his eyes betrayed any anger.

“What is this regarding?” Rodney demanded evenly.

Elizabeth took a breath, ignored the urge to scream and replied just as calmly, “You know very well what this is regarding.”

“Oh, well, how about you enlighten me,” he suggested a touch acidly. “Because my precognition is a little rusty.”

“About…about Simon.”

A snort of disgust met this and Rodney spun on his heel, stamping along the corridor with enough force to cause echoes. Elizabeth crossed her arms, spitting the wall next to her an exasperated sigh before walking briskly after him. Evidently, he was aware of her presence, because she noticed the back of his neck turning red.

“I don't have time for this,” Rodney muttered just audibly. “Unless there is some sort of onboard emergency, or Maj- _Colonel_ Sheppard has found Hermiod's secret lair of Asgard weapons technology, consider me occupied with other pressing matters.”

Abruptly, he veered off into another passage and stepped through a door way, hand resting on the shut controls. Elizabeth stopped, allowing him several feet of distance. His back seemed bent rigidly, but she could see his fingers tapping invisible keys against his leg. A long moment stretched between them.

“Don't you shut that door on me,” Elizabeth warned.

Rodney's posture relaxed, but he kept his gaze away ahead into the room. “Actually, I think I will. Because last time I checked, the rules of this expedition, as laid out by our fair leader – oh, that's _you_ – dictated that all personnel are granted the freedom of privacy. And guess what? I need some privacy in order to think up my next brilliant plan – in case I need one, and I probably will.”

“Rodney, _please_ …”

This time he dignified her with swinging around to face her, eyes a darker shade of blue than she remembered. Maybe it was the poor lighting. She hoped it was. The gnawing pit in her stomach only made her feel worse. Rodney's cheeks tightened and a frown finally broke his smooth expression. Again, she waited. Again, she hoped.

But then his dark eyes blazed once, and his face lost all emotion.

“You know, it's funny…” he mused. “I thought I'd managed to stumble onto something good for once in my life. But this just goes to show you…life sucks no matter what galaxy you're in.”

The door slid shut between them.


	23. Runner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

Rodney didn't know why he was there, slouching in the chair opposite hers just as he had done after many missions since coming to the Pegasus Galaxy. The habitual crossing of their paths had seemed normal before the return to Earth. Except for one fairly sizable discovery called _Simon_ at Stargate Command, this would still be normal.

“Is there something wrong, Rodney?” Elizabeth asked, eyes bright, spine too straight.

Rodney blinked slowly. “No, no, nothing wrong. Just thought I should hang out, just like old times. Friends do that, you know, hang out. They don't chase you while waving a gun...”

“This is about Lieutenant Ford, isn't it?”

The blunt enquiry stung a little more than it should have, and Rodney rubbed irritably at the collar of his black shirt. It chafed a lot more than the old one – especially since he'd started finding himself in the same room as Elizabeth. And here he was, inciting it. But her eyes were that kind echo he remembered, even if there was a sharp point on either side of her lips.

“It's ridiculous,” he grumbled. “He wasn't even my friend. He spoke too much, made really bad jokes and even chewed with his mouth open.”

“He was part of your team.” Her voice was steady, measured...and yet compassionate.

“He took up space.”

“Is that what you really think?”

Rodney thought about this. “I don't know. No? Maybe no. It doesn't matter anyway. That door shut long ago, like a lot of other doors...” He sighed, studying his knees.

“Thank you for talking to me,” Elizabeth said, shifting in her chair. “I know...things have been difficult.”

“Understatement of the millennia.”

“ _But_ something made you come here just now.”

The hopeful catch her in her voice made Rodney look up. He thought about her eyes, but it was her lips that captivated him, as they had done since the kiss. An entirely unwelcome warmth balled itself in his chest. But it didn't numb the ache that had set its claws into him.

“Sure,” he responded flatly. “Look, I need to get back to my lab. Leaving Zelenka alone in there for a day probably set the human race back by a few centuries in scientific advancement.”

He was at the door of her office when she spoke again. “Rodney...you're welcome to hang out with me anytime. We're still friends, aren't we? And what are friends for?”

Rodney rested one hand against the door frame. Heavily, he let go and said for the second time in one day –

“This isn't fair.”

This time, he really meant it.


	24. Duet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set while John and Ronon are eating.

There was something unfamiliar about Rodney's face when he was unconscious, Elizabeth decided as she rested her elbows on the side of the bed, tucking her chin into her fingers. She found herself missing the creases in his forehead when some calculation was working its way through his brain, or when someone in his lab asked a question he had answered in primary school.

“Seems strange not hearing you complaining about something,” she mused. “I never thought I'd say this, but I miss it. There are a lot of things I miss. I shouldn't have encouraged you to ask Katie out.”

Glancing towards the doorway where she could see Dr. Beckett perusing some files on his PDA, Elizabeth let out a breath that made her lungs hurt. Another breath and the discomfit intensified. Guilt. She felt guilty. Tilting her head down so that her fingers curled up around her lips, she swallowed the unpleasant sensation forming in her throat. There were a lot of thoughts and emotions that she couldn't allow herself. Not now. Not in this galaxy.

Elizabeth let one hand drop to his forehead, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles out with her thumb. “I can't stay long. Reports to read, reports to write. Or maybe I should track down Colonel Sheppard and find out why there have been repeated sightings of golf balls on the piers.”

A loud gust snorted out of Rodney's nostrils.

“No, you're right, I should be more discreet,” Elizabeth conceded with a small smile. “But it would help if you gave me some...options. No...I won't use that word. I'm sorry.”

Her hand drifted to his own, drawing his slack fingers tight against her skin. Her deep, even breaths seemed to sync with his own, until Elizabeth found herself blinking back a fog in her eyes. She hoped he really was unconscious, and not merely stunned. There mere thought caused her to drop his hand and scoot back in the chair by half a pace.

“I'm sorry,” she repeated soundlessly.

Elizabeth stood in one quick motion, patting down her pockets, searching for nothing. Hesitating for only one more moment, she turned and walked towards the door.

“Elizabeth?” Carson asked, concerned. “Are you alright, love?”

She stopped beside him. “I should go. Don't tell him I was here.”


	25. Condemned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

Even at night time, there was an array of non-perishable food and the usual caffeinated beverages in the mess hall. The brood of scientists dotted throughout the city had clamoured for – and won – this right in the very early days of the Atlantis expedition. In Rodney McKay's opinion, it was a privilege and not a right. Therefore, anyone who wasn't putting in the effort didn't need the extra stimulus.

Midnight in the mess hall was quiet, despite the many who lurked there after hours. And quiet was how Rodney liked it, because the daytime buzz of conversation grated on his sensitive ears and lured even the most simple of formulae out of his brain. He absently rubbed at his neck, wincing when fingernails met skin still raw from the binding collar.

He grimaced. “That's going to leave a mark.”

Clipped footsteps approached from the open archway of the mess, enough to chase away that particular complaint, but Rodney found several more to replaced it. He decided not to dignify the intruder with any response – except maybe a potent glare if they got too close. Poking through the dried apricots he'd snaffled from the buffet table, Rodney wondered if the available midnight snacks couldn't be less appealing. He'd take mouldy rations over this.

“So there I was thinking you needed rescuing,” a voice remarked. “I even went off-world myself. But all we ended up doing was dialling the 'gate for you.”

“Maybe next time you should save yourself the trip,” Rodney said flatly, trying not to look at Elizabeth as she sat opposite him.

Elizabeth rested one arm on the table and tapped her fingers over the surface. “I'd do it again. For anyone,” she added, belatedly.

That sounded like regret, and Rodney rolled his eyes as he realised he only recognised it because he'd been experiencing a lot of that lately. Slowly, he met her gaze, shrugged casually and shovelled two handfuls of apricots into his mouth. She smiled and an uneasy flutter settled in his stomach. Hopefully it was the apricots. He'd take food poisoning over socially awkward responses. Yes, the apricots.

“Right, leave no man behind,” Rodney said, after washing down the apricots with some coffee. “Well, the thought is noble, but the practice is a useless exercise.”

“You would leave one of your team mates alone and hopeless behind enemy lines?”

Rodney set his coffee mug down hard. “I didn't say that.”

After taking several short breaths, he scowled into his empty mug before pushing it across the table at her. Elizabeth rested her hand on the rim, stopping him. She said gently, “You'd go back for them against your better judgement. _That_ is noble.”

“Great, so I'm Mr. Fantastic. Where is my posse of adoring fans?”

“There's one right here,” she pointed out with a small smile.

Something approaching panic briefly filtered through him. Rodney clasped the mug to keep his fingers still. “No blondes? I have this thing for blondes.”

“I'm sure I can work something out.”

Elizabeth's hand slipped to cover his on the mug. Rodney blinked twice, then returned her smile.


	26. Trinity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set just as Teyla has seen them arguing towards the end of the episode.

“Rodney, can you give your ego a rest for one second?” Elizabeth said furiously. “A man is dead, and you and Colonel Sheppard nearly joined him. I don't care how much – or how little – you destroyed. I care that you're not thinking clearly enough and are willing to cause so much damage without thought for the lives you are so carelessly discarding!”

Rodney looked away sharply, out through the glass panels of her office to the Stargate below. He dug his hands into his pockets and clenched the material, hoping it would tear to bury his hands further, but it didn't. Taking a breath, he responded firmly, “Yes, someone died. I will always regret that. I'll see to it that it won't happen again.”

“All I have is your word, Rodney! And given that you assured me you could do this, I'm not sure I can trust that word anymore.”

“Well it's…” Rodney paused, frowning. “It's no less reliable than your word.”

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed and she took half a step forward, close enough that the heat of her anger practically peeled his skin. Drawing a breath, she lowered her voice to a less grating level, saying, “Don't change the subject. This has nothing to do with us.”

“Doesn't it?” he noted ironically.

Abruptly, she turned her back to him. “It always comes back to your ego. You assume that anything that occurred between us would take precedence over my professionalism.”

The ghost of her reflection flitted in a couple of panels, but the glass was too bright to reveal her expression. Rodney tilted his head to one side and squinted. When her back moved, announcing her turning back to him, he quickly straightened up, then let his shoulders drop again. Her face was blank, but her eyes were still narrowed and dark. Rodney released his hands to hold them up defensively in front of him, but his hands found their way to her shoulders.

As he leaned in, her breath played across his lips, quick and unsteady. Despite this seeming encouragement, Rodney hovered in front of her, eyes flicking across his face, down to her slightly open mouth.

“I'm sorry, Lizbeth,” he murmured.

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I forgive you.”

Pulling away before their lips could meet, Rodney back-pedalled into the doorway. He glanced back one last long moment before walking away.


	27. Instinct

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before the episode.

The balcony welcomed Elizabeth with the gentle brightness of morning, before the glare was too much. Crossing her arms, she leaned against one of the supports of the railing and stared out into the blue horizon. The breeze weakly puffed past her, an omen for a sweltering day, best spent writing reports in her office and trying to remember what a beach looked like. Not that she would indulge such a fantasy. Not anymore.

A low hum warned her of the access door to the balcony sliding open. She didn't need the scuffing footsteps to tell her it was Rodney – she could practically feel the air tense. Elizabeth shook her head, wondering why he was always so tightly wound. But then, she mused wryly, more recently it had been her fault.

Sure enough, it was his voice that informed her, “Sheppard sent me to tell you we're heading out – his words, not mine.”

“Thank you, Rodney,” she acknowledged. “Please let John know that I'm aware of your team's activities and can survive without the commentary.”

In one great exasperated huff, Rodney managed to extinguish all the tension. By the sound of it, he had shuffled back towards the door. Resisting the urge to turn around and see the expression she already knew he was wearing, Elizabeth said nothing more, waiting. She smiled, imagining his scowl.

After a while, he said tightly, “Oh. So I'll just be, you know…” More shuffling. “…going.”

“Please do.”

“No,” Rodney responded swiftly. “Look, I could be using this time to gather much needed supplies for this mission from the mess. If I'm going to waste my last precious moments before stepping into constant peril – not that it would be much different from being here – I want answers. What…what are you doing here?”

Elizabeth pressed a hand to her lips to stifle her laugh. “Looking for a sound.”

“I hate to educate you on this, but you can't _see_ , or look for, sounds.”

“I'm aware of that also, Rodney,” she responded firmly. “It is more a matter of…” She paused. “Contemplation. I find myself missing the sound of Athosian children running through the corridors, more so than immediately following their departure for the main land.”

“And why would that be?” Rodney asked shortly.

“I don't know. Maybe the sound of life soothes me…or it should.”

The wind picked up, whispering through the city. Elizabeth closed her eyes and focused on the sound, but it was somehow too distant. Once the breeze had died again, she turned around to see Rodney uncomfortably experiencing some contemplation of his own. As was more frequent lately, he met her eyes, but a hard set still kept his mouth locked in a frown.

“I'll consider myself lucky if I never see – or hear – another nose-picking infant again,” Rodney told her before striding back inside, adjusting his BDU vest.

Elizabeth watched him go, keeping her smile fixed, until he descended out of sight. Then she allowed a sigh and for once wished that Rodney would be unlucky off-world.


	28. Conversion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the infirmary scene at the beginning.

Seated at her desk, and holding up some files in front of her as a shield, Elizabeth Weir offered a comprehensive nod towards her head scientist as he irritably informed her of some grievance or another. Today's particular upset seemed to be related to one of his fingers, and he held out the abused finger, shaking it for extra emphasis. She kept one eye on this while simultaneously skimming down some reports and wondering what sort of report Rodney would have to file because of a tiny splinter.

“…the incompetence of the half-wits with printed diplomas in the infirmary!” Rodney was saying heatedly. “They wheeled in Colonel Sheppard when he could obviously walk, and yet they didn't even give me a bandaid!”

At this point, Elizabeth drew in a deep breath and set down the files. Obviously mere platitudes would not solve this. “I'm sorry to hear about your injury. Will I need to take you off active duty?”

Rodney trailed off immediately. “No, no, there's being cautious – and then there's hypochondria.”

Raising her eyebrows, Elizabeth leaned forward to take in everything. Stress and exhaustion were key things to watch for, and there were some lines around his eyes that hadn't been there before the last mission. But the fervour with which he was arguing reminded her of the Rodney before their return to Earth. This made her smile.

“That's funny, Rodney,” she deadpanned. “Tell you what, if I find you a bandaid, you need to do me a favour.”

“Elizabeth, do I look like I have any time for favours?”

Straightening the reports, she eyed him critically before standing up to his level. He quickly took a couple of steps back. Elizabeth informed him, “Well, you're due for some downtime before your next mission, but then again this might be some valuable time that could be better spent in the mess, am I right?”

“If you feel it absolutely necessary to bring up the pink elephant in the corner,” Rodney said impatiently, “then yes.”

“Pink elephant? Rodney, do you really think that applies?”

He regarded her uncertainly. “Uh, yes, that's why I – ”

“And you're rather be in the mess?”

“Yes, but – ”

“Come on,” Elizabeth ordered, catching his elbow as she walked past him. “A bandaid is easily solved. Then I will take you to the mess to get some food into you, with some conversation, and then I will consider the favour paid.”

“If you insist,” Rodney said, but with little protest.


	29. Aurora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

Hunched over his laptop, Rodney flicked his eyes backwards and forwards over the screen, missing nothing. Each line he scanned seemed to bore into the back of his retinas until the words burned into his very brain, before leaving indents on his skull. Rubbing his forehead with irritation, he rested his hand on the top rim of the computer and seriously considered snapping it shut. But then she entered, which meant briskly returning to work – at least for effect.

“It won't be long before this headache turns into a full blown hangover,” Rodney announced to Elizabeth as she drew nearer. “And trust me, you don't want to be here for the big bang.”

Her voice carried a touch of amusement. “Rodney, it was one drink.”

Rodney frowned and he set aside his laptop – not closing it, just putting it off to the side – before demanding, “Do you know how long it takes to build up that kind of tolerance?”

“So drink some water,” Elizabeth suggested, after muting her laughter. “Or you could eat something, which I know won't be any terrible inconvenience for you.”

Somehow his hand found the laptop and succeeded in snapping it hard enough that his hand spasmed. Wincing, Rodney rubbed his palms together while deliberately avoiding her eyes. He decided that he was offended, mainly because he had heard the laugh. Added to this, his temples were still throbbing unsympathetically.

“Is that what you think?” he asked sardonically. “Easily bought with food?”

“I rather thought that was the case.”

Rodney slapped his already sore hand against his knee. “Well it's not – whatever you might believe about my tolerance for bribery, corruption and skulduggery – ”

“Skulduggery?” Elizabeth repeated, her eyebrows performing that infuriating rise up towards her hairline, for the umpteenth time since he'd met her.

Momentarily quietened by this preoccupation with her facial expression, Rodney shook his head frenetically before turning back to his laptop, opening it with practiced ease. He continued as casually as he could, “It's for emphasis…what was I saying?”

The eyebrows went down to their proper place, and Elizabeth sighed. “You were accepting my sincerest apologies.”

“Right,” Rodney muttered, unable to feel sufficiently angry. “Then this conversation has reached its natural conclusion.”

He snuck a look out of the corner of his eyes, to make sure she left. Elizabeth stubbornly remained where she was, crossing her arms in that gesture of defiance. Picturing somewhere he'd rather be – say, a black hole – Rodney clenched his fingers. Finally, she commented, “I could always locate sunglasses.”

This warranted a confused look.

“For the big bang, of course,” Elizabeth clarified, with a small smile that totally failed to ignite any indignation within him.

Rodney rolled his eyes, but found himself responding, “You should probably bring coffee and a doughnut, as well.”

“I'll be sure to remember that. When can I expect an invitation?”

This time, it was easier to feel righteously irritated. Rodney diverted all his attention to his laptop, eyes once again following the text as it flowed from his fingers. His neck burned from her staring, much to his annoyance.

“How about never?” he snapped abruptly.

“Goodbye, Rodney,” she said simply and left.

It was barely half a minute later that Rodney glanced over his shoulder at the doorway and closed his eyes, drawing in a breath. Then it was back to work.


	30. The Lost Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before the episode.

There were three or four possible routes towards the gate room from the labs, and Elizabeth chose only one to stake out in hopes of catching Rodney before he went off-world with his team following some tip on a ZPM. Sure enough his shuffling footsteps announced his approach, as well as various mutterings under his breath.

Elizabeth stepped into the middle of the corridor. “Got a spare minute?”

“Actually, no,” Rodney answered, deftly stepping around her. “But feel free to fill in my last free moments before I am yet again pressed into Colonel Sheppard's chain gang – but shoot.”

Falling quickly into step beside him, she glanced sideways cautiously, but the scrunched up expression on Rodney's face was no less manageable than usual, and was most likely directed at something trivial instead of anything that may have transpired several days ago. She hoped. Elizabeth presented the box she'd been carrying, explaining, “Just thought I'd see you off – with a peace offering.”

Without much preamble, Rodney took the box and peeled back the lid. His lips twitched the moment he recognised the doughnut. “For the big bang, right. Clever. Thanks.”

“Stargate Command didn't see fit to send us any convenient travel mugs,” Elizabeth commented dryly, with a smile. “Otherwise I'd have got you some coffee as well.”

“Can you make it a hat trick and give me some Tylenol?”

Concerned, Elizabeth took a longer look at him. “Another headache?”

“You wouldn't believe what one flickering light can do to you. Migraines, eyesight deficiency, general psychological instability…that sort of thing.”

A laugh passed between them, and Rodney slowed down, although this probably due to him attempting to fit a doughnut of considerable size into his mouth. Elizabeth helpfully took the box and flattened it. She wisely chose to remain silent when Rodney absently sucked on one finger to do away with the remaining sugar particles.

“Lizbeth, about last week – ” Rodney began abruptly.

Shaking her head, she rested a hand on his elbow. “It's okay. I understand.”

The passageway opened up into the room containing the Stargate, and Elizabeth let her hand fall away, conscious of how Rodney stiffened now that others were in view. He dusted off his hands – not that he needed to, having already dealt with the crumbs of the doughnut – and adjusted his usual frown of discontent.

“Thanks again,” Rodney muttered and went off to join his team.


	31. The Hive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before we see Rodney on the Daedalus.

Elizabeth stood in the control room, surveying the sky as though she could see the _Daedalus_ crouched in orbit, ready to spring back among the stars. Already she could draw easy breaths, satisfied that now she could allow some worry to show without the chance of Rodney seeing it, as he was most likely on board by now.

Her radio crackled, and Rodney's voice sounded in her ear. “Zelenka and myself are about to be beamed up into the _Daedalus_. Any motivational farewell speeches planned?”

“Surprisingly, no,” Elizabeth answered measurably. “But I could compose a speech for your triumphant return, instead. I'll see you then.”

“I thought you were going to be seeing me off.”

“That sounds a lot like disappointment in your voice, Rodney.”

She could almost hear his grimace. “Probably due to the static in the radio. I'll have it fixed when I return. Well, _if_ I return. Who knows what we're flying into – ”

Elizabeth smothered her laugh quickly with her hand, before interrupting, “I'll buy the static excuse, so long as you do make sure you return. Atlantis wouldn't be the same without my favourite head of the science department.”

“I'm your _only_ head scientist,” Rodney reminded her tartly.

Gathering several deep breaths, Elizabeth let each one out slowly, filling the radio with white noise. Finally, she said, “You know as well as I do that you're the best. Should anything go wrong, you're the go-to guy. Failing that, I can always rely on Zelenka.”

“Aha, but he would only be your second choice. And you just admitted that I'm the best.”

“You're sounding much less disappointed already,” Elizabeth congratulated. “Now stand still so Colonel Caldwell can take you off my hands.”

Rodney huffed loudly. “Are you trying to get rid of me? Isn't that a bit contradictory, given that you've just labelled me your best and favourite head scientist?”

“Are you sure you're not harbouring any lingering need for Wraith enzyme?” A pause. “No, of course, you're not. Your ego usually is this insufferable, and I've just fed the beast.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Enjoy yourself. Bring me back a souvenir.”

“You'll be lucky if you even get a postcard!”


	32. Epiphany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

When night fell on the city, the horizon loomed in around them and so they fought back with lights in every pier. There were a few rooms that refused to shine in any way, and one such problematic section of the city was on the east side. It continued to bait and taunt the scientists so Elizabeth Weir knew this was where she would find Rodney after his disappearance.

The hook of an umbrella nestled over her arm as she carefully ducked down and glanced into the alcove beneath one of the balconies. Sure enough, Rodney was squeezed into the small space, frowning around a small flashlight hanging out of his mouth and flicking his fingers over a display on one of the Ancient tablets. Elizabeth wordlessly made her way underneath the balcony towards him, pulling her knees up under her chin once she was next to him.

“I thought I'd find you here,” she said at last.

Rodney made a non-committal grunt.

Resting her hand over his forearm, Elizabeth stopped his work, speaking again, “It's been almost a year since we were last here, hasn't it? Except it was raining then. I thought I'd bring an umbrella just in case – you won't believe how hard it is to track down an umbrella in Atlantis. Not many people would consider it a choice personal item, and I guess Stargate Command thinks we'd need coffee more.”

“Do you have a point with all that?” he asked. “Or am I supposed to pour out all my problems without any concise prompting?”

“Umbrellas aren't exactly a subtle prompt, Rodney.”

“Oh, and here I was thinking they contained the mysteries to ascension. But do explain.”

Elizabeth slid her hand down to cover his own. “Shelter. Protection. An offer of comfort.”

In response, Rodney wriggled his fingers until she let go. The screen's display whizzed through several screens of squiggly diagrams, and the crystals hanging down from the underside of the balcony abruptly lit up. The smug smile on his face lasted only three seconds before the power shorted out again, taking the tablet with it.

“Great, and now the city starts mocking me,” Rodney said moodily.

“About what happened today…you said it was your fault.”

“You really have to take a trip down memory lane now?”

Elizabeth sighed and rested her temples between her fingers. “Yes, Rodney. I know you feel responsible for what happened to Colonel Sheppard. You couldn't have known what would happen, although a little more caution and little less haste wouldn't go astray in the future.”

“You're contradicting yourself,” Rodney pointed out brusquely.

“How so?”

“First, you're attempting to reassign blame away from me to chance. And then you instruct me on what the correct procedure is for the future, when you should be giving that lecture to chance or fate.”

“I don't know if you've noticed,” Elizabeth said dryly, “but chance and fate are a little out of my jurisdiction. I mean it when I say you couldn't have known, and that full blame does not rest with you. I also mean it when I caution you for the future – because I worry about you…and the other members of your team,” she added quickly.

Rodney set down the tablet into his lap and looked sideways at her. He sounded pained, “I know.”

“You know what?”

“I don't think you want me to clarify that,” Rodney said airily and went right back to work.

Elizabeth couldn't help but smile. After squeezing his shoulder for longer than she should have, she slid out from underneath the balcony, satisfied that Rodney's mood was a good deal brighter. She left the umbrella behind for him.

Just in case.


	33. Critical Mass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set right after Zelenka's episode at the beginning and just before the next scene.

Without much preamble, Rodney McKay burst into the office of the expedition leader. He bent over double, took several heaving breaths and then supported himself against the wall. Once he caught sight of Elizabeth glancing over at him curiously, he quickly mirrored her crossed arms and nodded casually to her. Satisfied that he had the right attention, Rodney gave way to an excited exclamation, “I need to show you something!”

“Is this before or after you join a marathon team?” Elizabeth asked with that usual irritating smile.

“I have something important you need to see,” he reiterated, adopting what he hoped to be a smooth, calm voice.

Elizabeth uncrossed her arms and steeped her fingers under her chin, mesmerising eyes refusing to leave his. Catching the expectant expression she gave him, Rodney dropped his hands into his pockets and frowned. Her smile widened, much to his chagrin.

After a moment, Elizabeth nodded. “And by 'important', you mean…”

“Not exactly life threatening,” Rodney conceded. “But suffice to say a lot more interesting than solitaire.”

Something interesting did happen then. A light shade of pink appeared on her cheeks, although it disappeared once Rodney blinked.

“How did – ” Elizabeth stopped, took a breath. “I wasn't playing solitaire.”

Glee formed a balloon of importance in Rodney's chest and he performed an impressive slide into the chair opposite her. He took one more look at her smile, which was now so wide it was in danger of splitting her face, and the balloon burst. Rodney sulked, but only momentarily. He cleared his throat. “That's okay, I indulge myself too sometimes. Good exercise for the mind, hmm, also good for hand-eye coordination. That's if you're using the mouse.”

“If you say so, Rodney.”

“No really, I have experienced some sound evidence on this matter…and you're not really listening, because you're still wondering what's so important about me being here.”

“That did cross my mind,” she remarked.

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Of course it did. I've organised a little pow-wow in the control room for my presentation. It relates to the Wraith, so I thought I'd extend an invitation.”

Now that this message was delivered, albeit with some distraction, Rodney turned on his heel smartly and marched towards the door. He wasn't quite fast enough to escape her comment, “Casual or black tie?”

“Semi-casual, escorts welcome,” Rodney replied before quickening his pace and hurrying away as fast as possible.


	34. Grace Under Pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

There were many times that Elizabeth had stood here in the infirmary, carefully watching patients, asking for status updates. And there were more than a handful of those times that she had spent standing over Rodney, even if only for a minute, to make sure he was breathing – but not talking. Even consciousness was to be avoided at all costs. Today was proof that even the best laid plans could go astray.

Elizabeth had been sitting only for a few minutes, and about to leave to attend to important matters – such as solitaire or gnashing her teeth, something useful like that. In sleep, he always seemed to float, unreachable by stress – but also beyond the realms of human contact. Elizabeth pondered this as she hovered a hand over the bandage wrapped around his temples.

“That was too close,” she said quietly, leaning forward, ready to stand.

His eyes opened. “Usually I would agree, but this was little beyond too close, don't you think? This was as close as two fingers, or…or a simile equally as impressive.”

“I didn't realise you were awake.” Elizabeth shifted her weight, but hesitated. “I'll leave you to some rest, if you can manage it.”

“That's what you're best at. Leaving. But then, why fix what isn't broken, huh?”

Stung by the bitterness in his tone, she sat back heavily in the chair, frowning at him. Elizabeth tapped her fingers against her thigh, but instantly desisted once she noticed his gaze focusing there. Clasping her hands over her knees, she stated calmly, “I can't guess what you mean, Rodney. I always thought you were more one to ignore the status quo and improve on something broken until it is better than new.”

He was silent for only two seconds, which was still enough pause to signify some contemplation. “You weren't there for me, which is setting an incredibly high standard given that I'm pretty sure you're incapable of teleporting into a Jumper sinking through the ocean, but the principle of the situation is…is…even in my hallucinations you're not there for me,” he added lamely.

“What are you trying to tell me?” Elizabeth asked, running her fingers down the sides of her hair before settling them back in her lap. “That you think this is my fault?”

“No. Far from it. I'm just saying I find it very telling that in the midst of concussion, exhaustion, hypothermia and hallucinations, it was Sam and not you who helped me.”

“Sam?”

“Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter,” he said, like it was obvious.

Elizabeth rose to her feet, masking her sigh by turning away. “Oh, I see. But before you start running away with this theory, I'd like to remind you of two things.”

“Go ahead. It's not like I have any other pressing engagements right this second.”

“Firstly,” she continued, ignoring him, “I believe you saw Sam because she was who you needed to see at that time. And secondly, whatever past actions I may have taken, you have it on my good authority that I would never leave you if there was ever a time that you needed to see me. Good day.”

She didn't look back as she walked away.


	35. The Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set at the end of the episode, before John talks to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth leaned against the support pole of the railing, staring out at that same horizon as always, wondering what was beyond it, and never knowing. She shook her head, erasing this thought from her mind. Rubbing her bare arms until the goose bumps faded, Elizabeth half-closed her eyes and let the wind erase the tension from her face. This was her balcony, and her moment. And then the door hummed open.

“Welcome back, Rodney,” she announced without turning around. “I take it you're well?”

“What kind of question is that?”

Elizabeth turned to regard him. “The kind of question you should be expecting. Given the circumstances, of course. I understand that you were in a dangerous situation.”

It took less than a second for the frown to resurface and Rodney took a step or two back. Elizabeth watched the door slide shut behind him, cutting off his escape – or at least a brief no-nonsense escape anyway.

“And I was here,” Elizabeth continued slowly.

Rodney waved both hands in a mirrored dismissive gesture. “Yes, you here, me off-world. It happens. If you have any other ground breaking discoveries, contact me in my lab. And if it's a discovery worthy of myself, then we'll talk.”

Shaking her head, she clasped her hands over her elbows and leaned into her left shoulder for a moment before straightening. Elizabeth explained carefully, “I was referring to your past insinuation that I am not there for you.”

“Oh, so it's come back to this.” Rodney rolled his eyes. “Of course it came back to this. Here's a refresher for your memory. Sinking Puddle Jumper with sole survivor – very bad. Crumbling foundations with controls that didn't get the Zelenka work out – stock standard problem for any mission. Those and other subtle differences...”

Elizabeth felt his own frown on her lips. “You're telling me that you only expect a companion in the bad times, and give no thought for the ninety-five percent of other times.”

“Don't you think you're overestimating the positive percentage?”

“Fine. Ninety-percent of the time, you're willing to spend alone, if I understand you correctly. If you don't want company in those times, then you're never going to earn it for the bad times.”

“That's...” Rodney coughed. “That's a generalisation.”

Elizabeth waited for him to say more, but the ocean filled the silence between them instead, the roar louder than usual as the waves stirred uneasily around the piers, lashing the plexiglass in their attempt to sink the city once again. Finally, she said, “I wouldn't want to keep you from your work. I imagine that each off-world mission must make things slow-moving in your lab.”

“Elizabeth, I...”

She waited.

“I have to go,” Rodney finished hurriedly before disappearing back inside.

Elizabeth swept her eyes back to the horizon, where clouds were gathering above the rough sea. Leaning against the support as before, she tried to lose her thoughts.


	36. The Long Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

A white haze hovered in front of Elizabeth Weir's eyes, slowly meandering away at the corners before fading completely. She rubbed a hand over her forehead, letting it settle over her eyes to block out the light before turning her head so that she was looking forward. Immediately missing the support of the pillow on her cheek, Elizabeth dug her fingers into her neck, coaxing it to work for her.

“I can't believe I dozed off again,” she mused.

“Harbouring a different consciousness in your mind in your mind will tend to do that to you.”

Elizabeth smiled and focused on the man beside her. “Rodney. You came to see me.”

“Yes, well...” Rodney said awkwardly. “Since Sheppard back to his hale and healthy – unfortunately – self, that would have to mean that you too had been resurrected by the witch doctor.”

“Ah. Is this a bad thing, being back to my hale and healthy self, then? And do you find yourself disappointed?”

Elizabeth waited for a response, making no apologies for locking her smile on his face. The tips of his eyebrows scrunched closer together as the frown that had been shadowing his features appeared in full force. However, Rodney had the grace to correct patiently, “In a long and distinguished period of study, it has been noted that your wellbeing has no distinctly negative impact on your personal characteristics.”

“That's certainly some fast covering of your tracks, Rodney,” she noted.

“Huh. Do you think so?” Rodney asked, looking pleased. He then added quickly, “One never knows when one might need to cover one's tracks, especially when one is pursued by Wraith or certain disgruntled inferiors.”

Elizabeth deliberately averted her eyes. “Disgruntled inferiors. Of course. Rodney, I've been meaning to ask. Did I do or say anything while under Phebus' control that made you uncomfortable in any way?”

Somehow she found herself looking at him again, particularly his lips, and wondering about the rumoured kiss that everyone seemed keen on talking about – everyone but her and John, that is. That certainly wouldn't make things with her head scientist any better than they were at present.

“You shot me!” Rodney exclaimed instead.

“I'm sorry, it was not my intention, as you may have noticed.”

“No, that's no excuse,” he grumbled. “Because – you still shot me! And not just with any gun. No, you had to go and use a stunner, which is actually worse than bullets because of the drooling thing which I remind you is in no way flattering and – and come on, that wasn't fair.”

Elizabeth reached over to pat his hand. “I said I was sorry. Don't make me repeat myself. Next time I will make sure to use a P90.”

“That would be an improvement,” Rodney said, with what looked suspiciously like a smile.

“And you're sure there's nothing else that I did that made you uncomfortable?”

“No, no…” Rodney snapped his fingers. “Oh, that's right. You shot me!”


	37. Coup D'etat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the opening titles, but right before the briefing.

Rodney entered the briefing room with only one objective, and it involved something that glowed prettily and also happened to, oh, power the entire city. Right there on a screen it had been – even in black and white, the ZedPM managed to inspire a string of possibilities. A multitude of tests, new previously undiscovered functions and...there was that issue of space travel.

Casting his eyes around the tables, something appeared out of place. Rodney frowned and looked over to Elizabeth, the sole occupant of the briefing room. Note: sole occupant.

“Oh this is just great,” he announced, complete with echoes. “You tell them there's a deadline. You even tell them about the ZedPM. I say again. Zed. Pee. Em. But do they bother to turn up on time for the briefing, when a viable power source is at stake? No. And do you know why?”

The end of this rhetoric was met with Elizabeth lifting the bridge of her nose from her fingers, rising her eyes from the table surface to him. “The briefing is not for two minutes?”

Several calculated sentences decided to abandon Rodney at this point. He pointed at the door uselessly, before pausing and staring at his finger for a few moments. He cleared his throat. “No, in fact, the briefing was half a minute ago by my watch, and I specifically set it for the exact time off my laptop, which itself is synchronised with the computers at the SGC...”

Elizabeth held out a hand. “Then you will have no problems with showing me, right?”

“Wait just – ”

Her lips tilted at one wide of her mouth, in that way that meant she was amused.

“No, you – ”

Elizabeth's index finger gestured.

“That's not – ” He began tugging the watch off his wrist, handing it to her. “Fine. Fine.”

A few quick beeps later, the item was returned. Elizabeth settled back into her chair and blew out a breath. Shaking out his wrist, he moved over to stand beside her. After a pause, Elizabeth said, “I should be used to losing my people. But this...this is too much. From what I hear, you couldn't even recognise their faces.”

“Thank you for the reminder,” Rodney muttered, before adding awkwardly, “I'm pretty sure none of that was your fault. It's not like you can be everywhere at once – that's if you don't resort to cloning, which...which isn't a perfect process to begin with. Just...just saying.”

“I am responsible for so many people. Each loss is personal. Some...more than others.”

Rodney glanced at his watch, uncomfortable with the look in her eyes. “Well, that's it. They are late, and there's no excuse for it. If they can't take the security of Atlantis seriously...”

“Hang on, Rodney,” she interrupted, with a sudden smile. “I thought this was about a ZPM. I'll say it again. Zee. Pee. Em.”

“ _Zed_ ,” Rodney corrected, but a good deal softer than he intended.


	38. Michael

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set at some point in the first part of the episode, after Michael has woken up.

Elizabeth Weir drew her jacket closer around her waist, although she didn't zip it up. Instead she crossed her arms over the front of it tight enough to keep it in place. After a few more steps along the corridor, she let her arms fall to her sides again and it was only at the next corner that she slid the jacket off her shoulders completely. It found a new home over her arm and provided a helpful deflection from people who approached her. All she had to do was wave her arm distractedly and then was allowed to continue on her way.

She found Rodney in near darkness in his lab, surrounded by faint shapes – only some were recognisable as Earth-based. The coffee mug was a slight throw back to that. Elizabeth sat on the lab bench, watching the faint glow of his laptop swarm over his face.

“Couldn't sleep?” she asked.

“How astute,” Rodney said to this. “It could be the constant impending doom. Or the deliberately watered down coffee in the mess. Or the blatant abuse of authority by those in this department with the deluded idea that they can survive unsupervised. Mostly, it's the impending doom.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “There's nothing threatening Atlantis right at the moment…at least, to my knowledge.”

“Let's see. Someone incompetent enough to think they are competent may, oh, stumble across some newly discovered piece of Ancient technology, hit the wrong button and then the Wraith will be the least of our problems. And while we're on that cheerful subject – at any moment the Wraith could discover that Atlantis is not in several million pieces and return. What else…”

“You've obviously thought this through,” Elizabeth commented once he'd run out of steam.

Rodney wasn't done, however. Turning shadowed eyes to her, he continued, “Oh yes. There happens to be a Wraith running lose and you want everyone to be his best friend. Am I missing something here?”

“No, I rather think you've got it covered. And Michael isn't running lose. Yet.”

“Oh that makes it better,” he muttered. “You must be falling asleep at the mere thought.”

Elizabeth smoothed out creases in her jacket. “Don't tempt me.”

Rodney worked in silence for a while, although silence around him had come to mean to frantic clicking of computer keys, half-finished sentences, sighs of disgusted disbelief and the occasional monosyllabic outburst. Watching him was far too easy, and Elizabeth's vision kept being obscured by sleep.

When only a sliver of vision remained, she was aware of muffled footsteps approach her. The jacket was pried from her fingers and then a hand on her arm gently pulled her off the table. It took until the corridor outside for Elizabeth to orient herself, and to realise that Rodney was walking her towards the nearest transporter. She asked, bemused, “Where are you taking me?”

Rodney managed to sound both frustrated and…concerned? “Your quarters…so I can get some work down in peace.”

“That's nice of you, Rodney,” she murmured. “Am I going to have to get used to this?”

“Don't tempt me,” Rodney answered grimly.


	39. Inferno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

“Relax, Rodney. It's not that difficult.”

Seated behind her desk and attempting to peruse reports that were scarred from waiting, Elizabeth tried very hard to keep her eyes on her hands, at the very least. The plan had been for a quiet afternoon, perhaps a mug of coffee and then to waste the evening away with paperwork. She hadn't counted on Rodney McKay abruptly marching into her office, and then managing to take up the entire floor plan with his pacing.

Rodney shook a hand at her. “You would think it wasn't difficult, but you've never had a date with someone so…so…someone with those legs.”

“You've been on dates before,” Elizabeth reasoned, but then confirmed, “Haven't you?”

“Not as such, no,” he admitted dourly.

“But you and Katie – ”

He shook his head distractedly, snorting, “I wasn't _alone_ , so it doesn't count. And Lieutenant Cadman kept making me do things, things that are virtually impossible to replicate under other circumstances.”

“So what you're saying is…you've never had to think for yourself on a date.”

Apparently this was the wrong tack, because Rodney snapped, “Can we get back to the problem?”

“Rodney, it's not a problem,” Elizabeth tried. “Just be yourself. I'm sure Norina will enjoy your company.”

“That's the point, Elizabeth. Being myself is not an acceptable alternative to…various others of significance, who are clearly not being themselves in order to impress women.”

Elizabeth shuffled her papers and slapped them onto her desk. After a pause, she said calmly, “Would you forget this rivalry with John for just one moment? This has nothing to do with him. You're going on a date. With a woman. It's all up to you.”

“Well, I guess if you put it that way…” Rodney trailed off, eyes narrowing off into the distance.

Elizabeth watched him, before shaking her head and informing him coolly, “And I can name others that wouldn't mind sharing your company in such a situation.”

“True, very true,” he muttered distractedly. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”

Two seconds later, the Rodney-shaped blur sped off through the control room. The air became still again, and silence returned. But it wasn't the silence that Rodney made. Elizabeth pincered her forehead with one hand, and then filed away the reports.

“Any time, Rodney,” Elizabeth said to herself.


	40. Allies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before the episode.

In the control room, there was disquiet. Usually this sort of environment would be conducive to working, but there were a smattering of whispers, squeaking shoes and more than a few panic attacks to permeate the air of would-be professionalism. And, just now, Rodney McKay had discovered that by leaning back in his chair by as little as an inch would send a load screech of protest from beneath him. Clearly, someone was forgetting their job with the oil. One hive ship and the entire city loses it.

But of all these sounds, there was one that provided the most torment.

“Why is it always a bleeping sound?” Rodney demanded. “As soon as there's a hive ship on the long range scanner, it always comes back to the bleeping. Is it impossible for any other type of space ship to make that noise? Is it?”

A mug steaming with coffee materialised in front of him, right at the same time that a hand rested over his shoulder, rubbing backwards and forwards before dropping away. Rodney didn't bother looking back. Sure enough, like clockwork, Elizabeth said lowly in his ear, “For all we know, the Ancients could have set a specific sound for enemy vessels – a proximity alarm, perhaps?”

“That's what I meant,” Rodney rejoined, and picked up the coffee.

The chair beside him whuffed briefly as Elizabeth sat down, cradling coffee in her own hands, watching the Stargate distantly. This was a useless exercise, given that the Wraith were coming in ships and not wormholes, thus making the sky more worrying, but Rodney didn't want to point this out to her. Instead, he gestured at the worrying blip on his laptop's screen. “I don't suppose you have any more fancy ideas you'd like to share with the class to get us out of this?”

“No, Rodney. Usually that's your department.”

“Huh,” he said, shaking his index finger thoughtfully. “Well, that's true. When one's life is at risk of not being a life anymore, one performs more ably. Three ZedPMs would certainly be helpful, but we're not going to find all those anytime soon, are we?”

Elizabeth set her coffee down on her knee, sighing. But that sparkle stayed in her eyes. “We must make the best of what we have.”

“Which is…?”

“One functioning ZPM and a lot of dedicated souls.”

“You happen to be forgetting the cache of weapons being carried around by the mindless sheep known as the military.”

“Them too,” Elizabeth allowed, smiling. “See, Rodney, more than enough to handle ourselves. I can't see what you're worried about.”

“Of course there's something to worry – ah. Sarcasm. Lowest form of wit. Got it.”

Rodney watched her knee shake slightly and reached over to take the mug from her. Brushing her fingers was like skimming over ice. It was either that or coming too close to an arc of electricity. Deciding which was still a problem. It took a moment to find a safe place for both mugs of coffee – the console was out of the question – but once Rodney had stowed them around his feet, he took her hand between both of his and rubbed warmth into her fingers.

Elizabeth held out her other hand.

Rodney gave her an even stare.

And then he obliged her.

By the time he was finished with her hands, his own felt cold. Rodney slid his frigid fingers under his laptop, and decided that he couldn't think up anything good enough to say that wasn't sarcastic. Elizabeth stood up, squeezed his shoulder again, and disappeared into her office.

After that, the bleeping sound became a little more tolerable.


	41. No Man's Land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before Elizabeth has the meeting with the IOA.

The Earth Stargate, no matter how inferior in aesthetics to those of the Pegasus Galaxy, was still the most impressive sight in Elizabeth Weir's memory. Staring through the glass at the circle that had changed her life, Elizabeth let a deep breath pass her lips. So much and so little time has passed since then.

Antarctica still appeared in her thoughts. Instead of ice, she was always reminded of a certain blue polo fleece and the quick, abrasive introduction that she had been given to one Rodney McKay. Nothing but professional respect had crossed her mind then. Well, after she realised that apart from the stream of insults and incoherent musings, Rodney really was the smartest man she had ever met.

Yes, that could be admitted when he was nowhere nearby to hear it. Smart. Genius, even. But when it came to matters of the heart…almost completely inept. Almost.

Elizabeth pressed fingers to her lips thoughtfully, then smiled when she realised herself making the gesture. She occupied her hands instead, wringing them slowly, trying to contain any impulsive motions. Every meeting – every _moment_ – in life was just one more in a series of negotiations. This would be no different. But one or two glances over her shoulder towards the door were warranted. The IOA were taking their own time yet she intended to meet them with patience and authority.

The picture of a leader. The leader she was. Mistakes and successes – they made her.

Rodney. Where was he? Was he safe? Why had she discarded him so easily?

That would come close to one of her biggest mistakes. Rodney had been a colleague at first, a friend, a confidant – most importantly he had been _there_. And she hadn't been. That was another thing he was right about. Unfortunately.

“Wherever you are,” Elizabeth said to the glass, “be safe, Rodney.”

* * *

Being detained in an enemy spaceship would be bad enough, but the disgusting slime that encased Rodney was too much. Even a squid would be repulsed. And that would be a stretch. A sharp twinge in his neck brought a wince to Rodney's face. He highly doubted that the Wraith would allow a Swedish massage on the agenda – preferably with a masseuse that was blonde or…or…a brunette all in red – where did that come from?

Rodney wriggled impatiently, but his neck began to ache all the way to his ears. Waiting around for some low level life-sucking bipedal to deal with him was definitely not high on a list of his priorities – or anyone's priorities, he figured.

“I knew this would happen,” Rodney declared darkly. “You ask for the VIP suite, they give you a bed that will probably warp your spine beyond all recognition – ”

“Should have let you sleep on the floor then, McKay.”

This just goes to show you that people have no appreciation for some good wit. Rodney subsided to the occasional grumble. The support of the cocoon was not so bad. A bit disgusting, granted, but had something of a calming effect. Hmm, calming effect.

Elizabeth. Probably worrying. Not enough, obviously. But still worrying, watching the skies maybe…arms crossed in that way that made her look tough and lips…lips pursed in concern. Maybe she would even say some words. One of those pep talks that were totally useless, but would not necessarily be unwelcome here.

Worry. Would he see her again?

Atlantis that is, because there were so many things undiscovered. And who knew what Zelenka would be doing with his notes by now. The other scientist was probably already sitting on Rodney's desk, swinging his legs and sucking a lollipop. He'd even be soliciting secret audiences with Elizabeth over how to run the city.

Elizabeth. Running the city without Dr. Rodney McKay.

“We're a package deal,” Rodney protested.

Ronon's voice was clipped and agitated. “What now?”

“Shut up, I'm trying to concentrate.”

Focus. Focus. Elizabeth could always focus.

 _Not if I kissed her_ , he thought smugly, then batted the thought away.

 


	42. Misbegotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set just as the episode ends.

Once the blue glow had receded from the gate room below, Elizabeth returned to her desk and settled into her chair. She waited several long seconds before all seemed well and allowed the gust of anxious air to pass her lips. Immediately, her shoulders sank comfortably and her breathing evened out. She wondered how long she had been taking shallow breaths. But now Woolsey was gone, the IOA were appeased and she was home.

Elizabeth laid her hands an inch or so from the surface of the desk, patted the air indecisively for a moment before picking up a book from the piles she had left within easy reach. Not exactly Harlequin, but something about policies and regulations that leaned heavily on the UN – and almost entirely useless for another galaxy.

An impatient rap on the door made her look up gratefully to the control room entrance. Seeing no one through the panels of plexiglass, Elizabeth turned her attention to the other door. Anything was better than dry old passages on things she knew back to front all ready.

“Come in,” she called, not loud enough to betray her keen wish to avoid staring at fine print.

Rodney McKay entered, hands uncertainly rubbing in front of him, before he seemed to notice her focus and dropped his arms to his sides. She knew that gesture. Motioning for him to fill the seat vacated by Woolsey, Elizabeth set aside the book – open, facing upwards. Important, busy and patient. Not like how she felt; breaths and pulse quickening until she found herself wordless.

He didn't sit.

“I would have come earlier,” Rodney began in a clipped and precise tone that managed to deteriorate after the first two words. “But here's the only problem about returning to Atlantis, wherein my absence the entire science department has this thing about the city being held together by duct tape and a paperclip. If a hive ship of any remote threat had appeared in the sky, all they'd have had to do was hose down the main spire and all the adhesive would come undone. Because it's all about packaging, and if you don't have the right packaging then…”

Elizabeth rested her chin in her hands. “Is there a point to this, Rodney? I have quite a bit of work to catch up on.”

Someone had to have some Harlequin books lying around in Atlantis, she reasoned, making a list of possible candidates. No one military, though Lieutenant Cadman was a possibility. Miko? Katie Brown? The last suggestion made her bite the inside of her cheek.

“So I see,” Rodney noted, taking in the piles of books on her desk.

“And?”

“ – oh. And I don't think we managed to cover the entire issue before, because…because we…we as in the _team_ …are glad you're back.”

“We?” Elizabeth asked lightly. “I believe we did cover this issue earlier.”

Rodney's eyebrows drew closer together and he shook his head.

“Then what? Come on, Rodney, you're not usually this demure.”

“Back for how long?” he exaggerated at last.

Elizabeth instantly roped in her wandering attention. She watched as his hands crept back into the security of his pockets, complemented by Rodney hunching over protectively. The blue eyes she had missed met hers…alright, for a moment, but long enough for her to doubt her ability to work – or indeed to enjoy any sort of romance novel.

“The IOA have chosen…” She paused, slow, teasing. “…to let me stay on Atlantis. For the time being.”

One of his hands escaped to run over his hair distractedly. Realising a response was expected of him, Rodney managed thoughtfully, “Good. That's good. Very good.”

“Oh? Why's that?” Elizabeth wanted to know.

Rodney's expression flitted between a smile and a grimace. “So I can do this.”

Abruptly, he marched over to the desk and leaned over to rest his hands on either side of her face. Whatever plan Rodney had arrived with seemed to evaporate at this point. Almost nose to nose, he stared hopefully into her eyes. Elizabeth didn't dare move. And then he covered the distance between them with a kiss, tentative and searching.

She gave him his answer, rising from her chair and taking him up with her. Grasping his shirt with her hands, Elizabeth pulled him hard into the kiss. His hands found the back of her neck, dropping down her shoulder blades. At this point, Rodney suddenly back-pedalled, scowling.

“I'm sorry,” Elizabeth said quickly. “I know I have no right. What I did to you…”

“It's irrelevant. Ir-re-le-vant.”

“Then why…?”

Rodney gestured at the desk between them, then rubbed his legs irritably. She suddenly became aware of her own discomfit. A quick laugh, and then Elizabeth moved around the desk to meet him properly.

Elizabeth wondered if perhaps she should go away more often.


	43. Irresistible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

Laying out the herb on the lab bench in front of him, Rodney surveyed it was a mixture of distaste and disappointment. He rolled his eyes and then proceeded to fumble around in the various drawers in search of something flammable. Of course, using one simple match was out of the question – too long, too messy and it was entirely likely that inhaling the fumes too long could have some nasty enduring effect. Such as, people not being eager to clean his quarters.

Rodney at last found a Bunsen burner, most notably on Zelenka's bench – which explained a lot of things. Well. It would have, if he could actually think of something. Gas – on. Match – agreeable. Holding a tray out underneath the herb, he dashed it across the blue flame. Instantaneous combustion.

He pinched his nose, eying the smoking remains with some degree of caution.

“How is it coming?” Elizabeth asked from the door way.

Rodney dropped the tray and muttered, “I wasn't going to keep any, if that was what you were thinking. But while we're on that subject, don't you think it at least warranted a test against the Wraith? Because Wraith that don't want to eat you…is kind of a good thing. At least from where I'm standing.”

“I'm not so sure that would work. The survival instinct is very strong, Rodney.”

“You're proposing that if Lucius had asked one of us to jump off a balcony,” he said slowly, “that the survival instinct would overwhelm the desire to please. In fact, I was going to suggest…”

Elizabeth laughed shortly. “Of course you were. I hope that this situation doesn't bother you too much.”

“Oh, well I'll just pretend I never said the words 'fly, Lucius, fly,'” Rodney grumbled. “Which is easier said that done, but considering what others were prepared to do, I would say that I managed to stave off any particularly stupid impulses.”

“As opposed to myself?”

Catching this particular hint quickly, Rodney fiddled with the zip on his jacket. Elizabeth smiled though, which was nice because apart from being an exoneration, it was…nice to look at. She made her way across the lab and took the tray containing the herb's cinders, before shaking the contents into the nearest bin.

Elizabeth turned back to him and said, “Rodney, you would never need to resort to that to get my attention. I happen to like you well enough. And…let's see, I don't seem to recall you complaining before this whole mess started. But if you prefer, I can avoid you. Just in case.”

“No…no need to overreact,” Rodney amended. “And besides, Sheppard should be grateful he's only cleaning my quarters. You know there are plenty more deserving tasks…”

“I can imagine.”

“Oh sure, take his side. After all the – ”

“Rodney, calm down. I would never take sides. I just think it…wise that you rely on your individual charm than that herb to get along with your team.”

Given that the herb was now gone, Rodney didn't think he needed the caution. It was always completely unnecessary to make the word 'charm' sound like something as unpleasant as his cat splattering the carpet with a fur ball. He said stiffly, “If you don't mind, and would rather not take up so much space in my concentration, I need to get as much work done as possible before the next scout.”

Elizabeth seemed to completely ignore this statement before slipping her arms around his waist and then kissing him. Once she'd started out towards the door, Rodney berated the air soundlessly before attempting to expel a cross between an apology and a protest. This didn't work so much, but at least she did turn around.

“I expect your charm will return to normal by tonight,” she told him with that same smile.

“Oh, sure. In your wildest, most far-fetched dreams. Go right ahead and think that.”

“Mess hall at eight?”

“Bring jell-o.”


	44. Sateda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before John goes to talk to Rodney.

Elizabeth hadn't expected to hear from Dr. Beckett so soon – it had almost been a given that Rodney would be occupied with pretty colours and horses for a while yet. But she supposed she should never discount the obscenity of her head scientist, especially when wounded pride and body parts were involved.

Taking slow strides past the various groups of arguing scientists in the corridors, Elizabeth schooled her expression into one of pensive concern – the type of expression that could relate to anyone, and not to the wellbeing of Rodney McKay. It was a blessing that the rumour mill of Atlantis was quiet on this matter, but it was only a matter of time before anyone caught on. And then there would be resistance from the IOA, of course. Professional distance, duty, whether or not a conservative military leader might be better suited…

Elizabeth shook away the thought, sweeping her hand though the hair on the side of her head to steady her shaking fingers. Offering a quick courteous nod to those that tried to engage her with whatever problem they wanted solved, she kept her eyes focused distantly ahead. It was almost a surprise to arrive at the door to Rodney's lab, considering how much attention she'd given to appearing _not_ to arrive there. Then again, she was requesting a status report.

Rodney stood with his back to her, furiously tapping away at the laptop and spitting out the occasional reproval. After patiently watching this, Elizabeth asked, “Are you making sense now?”

“If by sense, you mean the vernacular of the common folk,” he responded, “then I'm afraid you're out of luck. I make more sense on the scientific level.”

“Rodney. You make perfect sense to me, even when some of your words are unrecognisable. What I meant was – ”

“I know what you meant,” Rodney said stiffly.

Elizabeth noticed that his shoulders were rigid, and his back too straight. The usual slump was gone, though he seemed to be shifting the weight on his feet more – and not due to any particular awkward subject matter. Arranging herself beside him, she squeezed his shoulder. “Have you been standing long?”

“Here's the little known fact about being shot in the ass with an arrow. It tends to sting. While not the most common of experiences, this simple fact should not be hard to grasp. Therefore, standing hurts remarkably less.”

“A little less on the cynicism, please,” Elizabeth told him firmly, but the corners of her lips twitched. “I wanted to check how your progress was going.”

Rodney's expression soured. “Oh, well, until the Wraith introduce one of those universal adapters, this is going to take a while.”

“I didn't mean the tracking signal.”

“Oh,” Rodney said and fell silent.

Elizabeth sighed. “I thought so.”

Leaning over, she swiped the laptop from his hands and ignored his protests and she carefully set it on the floor. Raising one eyebrow, daring him to argue further, Elizabeth sat down and patted the space on the floor beside her.

Rodney's response was to indicate his posterior.

Elizabeth shifted onto her knees before lying on her stomach and mimed typing at the keyboard. This apparently did not appease Dr. McKay. He finally said out loud, “Oh, well, you enjoy the thousands of Pegasus-based bacteria that everyone keeps walking into my lab. One of the biologists bent down to pick something off the floor just last week – and do you see her walking around anymore? No, no I don't and I doubt you have either.”

“I think what you need to ask yourself,” Elizabeth mused, “is whether or not you will be able to work properly standing on your feet for several hours.”

“That's where you're wrong. These feet are fine where they are, because I've stood up for longer than this before – and with more menial tasks, let me assure you.”

“Rodney, give your feet – and pride – a rest.”

For extra effect, Elizabeth pursed her lips invitingly. Either the ache in his feet was a strong enough influence, or the added incentive worked as intended, Rodney made a few more comments before gingerly sinking to his knees. A few more signals of encouragement from Elizabeth and he was on his stomach.

“I think my work here is done,” Elizabeth remarked.

Rodney shot her a long-suffering glance, which earned him a quick peck on the cheek. Rubbing his back gently, Elizabeth waited until his focus was once again locked on the laptop before quietly leaving his side. Several tentative sweeps of the corridor outside with her eyes allowed her to leave unnoticed.


	45. Progeny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

Precisely two hours after all others had left the control room, Rodney McKay looked up from his laptop and took notice of this. Someone had very thoughtfully switched off all the lights, leaving him alone in the glow of the console. Despite a brief indignation at being ignored in this way, Rodney allowed a relieved smile and returned to his work. Silence. Wonderful, constructive silence.

Sunk into muted light, Rodney almost couldn't feel his fingers as they tapped in front of him. He shook them out irritably before poising them above the keys. Right at that vital moment, when an important idea on how to search the database more effectively began to surface, two hands dropped out of nowhere and covered his. Rodney twitched – and then the idea swam away, practically hurling taunts as it went.

“Great, well that's going to take a while to remember,” he complained.

“I'm sorry to interrupt your work, Rodney, but I hope you noticed that you're the only one here.”

Rodney loosened his fingers, letting Elizabeth weave her own through his. Her chin rested on his shoulder, a bit hard but not an unwelcome intrusion. Companionable silence stretched between them while Rodney stared at his laptop screen without seeing it. Without even uttering words, she was more distracting than an entire room full of bickering underlings. But this could be overlooked from time to time. Now being one of those times.

Her cheek brushed against his, the contact sending an uncomfortable sensation into his chest. Rodney tightened his grip on her hands. “Elizabeth…”

“It wasn't your fault,” her voice assured him. “Rodney, you already said sorry on the Jumper. But it was unnecessary. You couldn't have known.”

“Couldn't have known that a human form replicator was dangerous?” Rodney interjected disbelievingly. “It's a little obvious, don't you think? I shouldn't have even let him on the Jumper.”

“That was not your decision to make. I recall it being mine, as a matter of fact.”

“I'm so sorry,” he said again.

Elizabeth reached over and closed the laptop. The console dimmed even further, and the crawling against his eyeballs reminded Rodney that sleep was overdue – what with missing various lab-naps between having a hand stuck in his head and engineering their escape. Or the eyeball thing could be do to with the fact that she wasn't mad at him, when she clearly should be. He opened his mouth to explain, but one of her hands lifted to stroke the back of his head.

“I don't want to hear it,” Elizabeth remonstrated. “You need some sleep.”

“I can't just leave the control room unguarded. Do you have any idea what could just stroll in off the street? Last time I checked, Atlantis wasn't a halfway house.”

“ _Rodney_.”

“But yes, sleep first. I assume you're taking over my shift?”

Elizabeth's soft laugh tickled his ear. “No, the technician who is supposed to be on duty can be found. Or he will wish he was soon enough.”

 _I'm sorry_ , Rodney thought, turning his head to fix his eyes on hers.

“I'll even tuck you in, if you like,” she baited.

Not that that suggestion didn't sound tempting. But if she'd just let him apologise, then the squirming in his stomach would go away. Rodney cleared his throat. “I appreciate the distraction, but if you'd just…”

“No. I won't be hearing any apologies from you. Bed. Now.”

“Well, it all depends, doesn't it? Are you just tucking me in, or do you have a little more incentive?”

“That's much better,” Elizabeth approved, easing him out of the chair. “As for incentive, what did you have in mind?”

Smugly, Rodney lowered his voice and told her.


	46. The Real World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set either just before or right at the beginning of the episode.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. She shouldn't be lying on the ground, eyes closed and hands still curled around the empty coffee mug in her hand, the contents of which spilled out on the ground. But right now Rodney McKay didn't care as he knelt in the mess and stroked hair from her face, while frantically tapping his radio. Someone was responding in the earpiece, but he couldn't recognise the voice, and he suddenly distrusted it.

“Wake up,” Rodney ordered her. “You're supposed to wake up. Look, it's not that hard. You open your eyes, and you – you say something. Say something.”

Did she even have a pulse? The hand fell from his ear and began scrambling along her neck. More of her hair fell in the way. Rodney closed his eyes, concentrating. Pulse. Where was the pulse? No pulse.

“No, no, no, no. There's a pulse. You're just not letting me feel it. Beat a little harder. Come on!”

A vein throbbed underneath his fingertips. Another beat. His eyes opened and he drew a ragged breath. Then he felt a weak brush of air over his wrist. Her lips. From her lips. Pulse, breathing – great. The radio squawked urgently. Fumbling for the earpiece, Rodney palmed it and stared at it blankly. Who had he called?

Infirmary. A doctor finishing the night shift in the infirmary.

“Rodney McKay here,” he responded, wondering if he'd already said that. “I say again. Dr. Weir is…she's not awake. She collapsed in my quarters. I can't…I can't wake her. I need someone here. Preferably someone who knows their way around a stethoscope.”

Disjointed words travelled down his eardrum, unravelling into even less sense than to begin with. Why was this taking too long? Shouldn't there be stretchers and weird smelling clothes? Rodney frowned worriedly at Elizabeth in front of him, before demanding, “Get me Beckett. I don't care if he's asleep. Wake him up. And while he's doing that, why don't you do something useful and help me get Elizabeth to the infirmary?”

More sentences peeled back at him, each more confusing than the last. Frustrated, Rodney wrapped his arms around Elizabeth's waist and tried to haul her up against him. He met resistance at first – which was expected – but he got her sitting up against him. Her neck hung forward loosely. Rodney hated that, but he couldn't let go of her. He couldn't.

“Don't make me carry you. You know I'm hopeless with any kind of exercise. You've got to stand up. Please stand up. I can't lift you.” His vision swam and Rodney winced. “I can't. I'm so sorry.”

This wasn't supposed to be happening. She'd gone out to get some coffee for him from the mess. She was meant to bring it back. She was meant to make it back. What could possibly go wrong after all this?

Replicators. It had to be. A bit sketchy on the how, but he needed a reason. Any reason. Niam. The replicator had grabbed her, and it had been his fault. Why did she say it wasn't?

“You can't go now,” Rodney said furiously. “You're supposed to tell me it isn't my fault, even when it is. And I haven't even got you to read any of my papers. You can't back out now. You can't.”

The door hummed open and Rodney almost slackened his hold with relief. Angrily, he tightened his arms around Elizabeth's body and looked up into the concerned face of Carson Beckett.

“Good Lord,” the doctor said and rushed to his side.

Rodney became aware of the coffee soaking into his pants. It smelled stale. The stench followed them all the way into the infirmary.


	47. Common Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before we see Chuck going to talk to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth Weir appraised the Stargate from the landing in the control room, leaning on the railing perhaps a bit too much and rarely blinking. Her eyelids felt like sandpaper, but even if she wanted to rest, there would be no point. Glancing down at her white knuckles, Elizabeth blew out a breath and released the railing. She could feel him behind her, which wasn't surprising. They'd barely had a few sentences together during the course of the – situation.

“I just stood there…” Elizabeth swallowed as the words faltered. “Just stood there and watched John's life being stolen from him.”

A gentle pat on her waist made her glance sideways as Rodney stood next to her. Notably, his hands were on the railing, though she was fairly sure he had touched her. The seconds ticked away, further into silence, further into what little chance Colonel Sheppard had left. Elizabeth tried to take a deep breath, but her lungs disobeyed.

She found her voice again. “I know I shouldn't question my capabilities, especially in this situation, but if morality had no part in my decision-making…I might not have let Ladon go.”

“Oh, as if anyone would have disagreed,” Rodney pointed out.

“That's not any justification, Rodney. Relying on the ethics of others has never been my aim in diplomacy.”

Rodney said nothing, but he put his arm around her shoulders hesitantly. The public nature of this display should have bothered her, but Elizabeth was overwhelmed with a heaviness starting at her burning eyes right down to her legs, making it impossible to move away from the comfort of him. It wasn't wise, but somehow necessary at that moment.

An uncomfortable cough in Rodney's throat was the only indication that he was thinking the same thing. After a minute or so, he tried again, “Handy reminder – you let him go. Which is an obvious indication that you possess some ethics, more than is safe, but that's not the point. The point is instead of having no leads with him in the cell, we're stuck here with no leads – and no Ladon. I don't see a big difference…not one that I'm going to mention, but probably thinking about…”

“Is this also a reminder that you always manage to surprise me?” Elizabeth asked, the smile curling her lips.

Rodney tensed, and probably would have said something, except she slid out of his grasp. The shadow of confusion appeared in his eyes – only briefly, to his credit. Elizabeth took his hands and wrapped them in her own.

“Thank you, Rodney. For pointing out the obvious.”

“Oh, sure, when you just happen to want a soundboard, don't forget to dial 1800-waste-my-time.”

“Rodney…”

“I meant that…that…you're welcome,” he finished, half-formed scowl breaking as the uncertain smile appeared beneath it.

And then she was alone again, watching the Stargate for a lead that may not come.


	48. McKay and Mrs. Miller

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before Rodney goes to see Jeannie towards the end of the episode.

There was something entirely unwelcome about being invited to explain one's actions, when said actions resulted in a depleted ZedPM and a few angry minorities. Or majorities, as Rodney McKay very deeply suspected. It wasn't his fault the universe had been on the brink of collapse - debatable for this moment, but forgetting that. However, it was his fault that the universe still managed to exist, therefore also ensuring the survival of…angry majorities.

Rodney paced outside Elizabeth's office, pulling at the sleeves of his jacket agitatedly. Stalling generally worked in his favour when encountering Genii or any other people waving guns who clearly wanted to be included in that year's alumni of Bad Guys. Unfortunately, stalling wouldn't work on the leader of Atlantis – who also happened to mean a lot more to Rodney.

Rodney waved a hand over the door mechanism, rolled his eyes to the ceiling towards whatever glowing entity happened to be passing by in the atmosphere and entered Elizabeth's office.

She had barely glanced up from her desk when Rodney decided to get in first. “Lizbeth, I know what this is about and you should just listen for a second – or for however long this takes. The ZedPM is depleted but if I hadn't saved the universe – as you expected me to, don't even try to deny it – then you wouldn't even be mad because you wouldn't even…be.”

“Rodney.” Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. “I much prefer being mad at you than not being here at all. As it turns out, I'm not mad.”

This was an unexpected bonus. Rodney asked hopefully, “Really? Because – ”

“Not… _that_ mad,” Elizabeth interrupted dryly. “But the IOA may disagree with me on that.”

“Oh, like they wouldn't do it any differently,” Rodney snorted.

“No, I think they would. Jeannie told me what you did for Rod, and I can't fault that. You acted honourably, and I am proud of you.”

Rodney dug his hands into his pockets, mentally reminding himself to have a very long and very unpleasant discussion with whoever had botched the city's air systems – it really shouldn't be this hot near the control room. He shuffled over towards the desk, noting, “That's so encouraging, but I think you happen to be forgetting the 'mad' thing.”

“It's forgotten,” Elizabeth assured him with that smile. “However, I would like to know just what you've been telling your sister about me. She seems to have heard quite a lot in such a short time.”

Rodney's hands had escaped his pockets and were wringing themselves uncertainly. This discovery was not agreeable in any sense, but if he pocketed his hands again, she might notice. After this conflict warred for a few moments in his head, Rodney leaned against the desk casually and crossed his arms. “Oh, just…might have slipped out once – twice – maybe every day…er, look, Elizabeth, apparently there's some stupid rule about giving gifts to children and last time I was at Jeannie's – ”

“You forgot to take a gift.”

“And I can't exactly just stroll down to the nearest Toys'R'Us,” Rodney reasoned and looked around her office before tapping a statuette on her desk. “What about this? You don't need it.”

Elizabeth titled her head to one side, regarding him with a frustrating lack of expression. “Rodney, I was given that by the ambassador of – ”

“Yes, yes – but do you actually need it?”

“Take it,” she said wearily.

Rodney grinned and leaned back across her desk to kiss her. Predictably, she didn't object.

And she wasn't mad – ha!


	49. Phantoms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

On so few occasions did Elizabeth Weir approach the infirmary with a smile, especially if it involved her head scientist. His bed was against the wall, mostly away from prying eyes, and he was at that moment arguing with the nurse that had brought him some food. Clearing her throat, Elizabeth waited until Rodney stopped mid-sentence, and was amused when he failed to relocate his thread of argument. The nurse discreetly left.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, sitting next to him. Rodney opened his mouth, but Elizabeth immediately thought better and held up a hand. “No, wait, I think I know. Carson tells me you will be released tomorrow, and his recommendation is that I keep your off active duty for at least a week.”

“Please, I think I can handle a few spears and stun blasts after being shot,” Rodney said tersely. “And you expect Sheppard to get himself out of trouble off-world without me? We've seen how that works out, even with me along for his joyride.”

Elizabeth sighed and rested her hand on his leg. This did little to placate his mood, but it did manage to silence him for a minute or so while a vague little grin spread over his face. Dr. Beckett had assured her Rodney was no longer on morphine, but the cheerful countenance looked not dissimilar to that of a certain arrow incident. Shaking her head, Elizabeth leaned forward and reminded him, “Colonel Sheppard was not in control of all his faculties.”

“Huh, more like not in control of the whole campus,” Rodney added.

“And you think you were not as influenced by the device?”

His expression became incredulous. “Elizabeth, did you see me decorating the landscape with a P90? No – you weren't there, so you didn't – but you wouldn't have, I can give you the Rodney McKay guarantee on that.”

“As long as I see your report for the mission,” she said lightly, “then I won't make too many judgements on your character. You can be as truthful as you like in your report and I'll still give you the respect you deserve.”

“Oh. In that case…it was all Sheppard's fault, because if he wasn't running around like he was trying to get the high score in a shoot 'em up…you know those games where you shoot anything that happens to move instead of using actual strategy – ”

“Rodney.”

“I'd just like to take this moment to point out that you did not specify any restrictions on verbal statements.”

Elizabeth sighed and resolved to be very cautious of anything she said to him in the future. The best solution for the smirk he was currently shooting her was obvious, though – she kissed him. Rodney's lips attempted to mumble something against hers, so she deepened the kiss, which was more than enough distraction.

At least, she hoped it was.


	50. The Return (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during the episode, probably 2 weeks after they've returned to Earth.

For the tenth time in as many hours, the phone rang out and cut to a message bank that seemed to grow more tired each time it told Rodney McKay to leave a message after the beep. The other nine messages would have to suffice, because he didn't have the time or energy to think up something else to say. That decided, Rodney still frowned at his cell phone. One more time couldn't hurt – and besides, it would give him an excuse to look busy. Not that he ever needed to, especially when it was eleven at night and no one else was around.

Three rings, but it was definitely picked up this time.

“Elizabeth!” he burst out. “Thank God. Are you alright? Are you…awake?”

A pause followed this, and then she replied tiredly, “Rodney…it's midnight. What is it?”

“Oh. Well, I hadn't actually thought that part out since it took so long to get your attention. You weren't out at some – er – you weren't with anyone were you?”

“Hardly. And yourself?”

Rodney beamed vacantly across his workspace then quickly remembered himself. Adopting a scowl, he paced backwards and forwards in front of his desk, free hand tearing more holes in a new pocket. He cleared his throat. “No such luck either. Makes you wonder if Sheppard can pick up in this galaxy or not. How…how are you?”

“Pensive,” Elizabeth replied shortly. “You?”

“Huh, I don't have Zelenka weighing me down anymore,” Rodney informed her. “And my office makes the _Daedalus_ look like a UAV…so I guess you could say good. Good…except for one or two people that I miss.”

“Two?”

The lack of detailed answers started to bother Rodney and he momentarily pulled the cell phone away from his ear to consider this. Midnight, come on. It wasn't like it was that late or anything. Never mind that it was only eleven at Area 51. And anyway, that was just an hour's difference. The silence finally stretched a few seconds too long and Rodney corrected, “Or one…one probably. That brings me to the next point. Dinner. When should we do it?”

“I thought you were in Nevada?”

Rodney glanced over his shoulder at his desk, checked the time again and shrugged to himself. “It's not a…big setback. And you could always move here. Maybe even move in with me. Or…or maybe not.”

“Rodney…” Her tone sounded suspiciously gentle. “This is not Atlantis.”

“Yes, yes, I tend to notice that when I find a window in this place. If I find a window…”

He heard her sigh ghosting over the receiver. Rodney stabbed a particularly large hole in his pocket and managed to scratch his leg in the process. Wincing, he prepared himself for anything she might say.

“I'm sorry,” Elizabeth said carefully. “But my place is here. Not there. And I would appreciate it if you didn't try to contact me again.”

Rodney sat down abruptly on the floor. “That's it? You're going to hang up and never speak to me again? Well that's mature.”

“I'm sorry, Rodney.”

Blankly staring at his knees for a moment, Rodney had to blink away the darkness suddenly encroaching on his vision. A light. Who was the idiot that didn't leave a light on when they left? His eyes landed on the lamp on his desk…the very bright and painful lamp that would probably be finding a new home after this. Preferably a dump.

“But I…” Rodney stopped, drawing a ragged breath. “But I lo – ”

The phone beeped once, his only warning that Elizabeth had hung up. Rodney pushed away the cell phone and just stayed there. He couldn't move. Breathing seemed the least important function in the world, though his lungs burning reminded him that this was not the case. Rodney breathed again, but it was hard.

He drew his knees under his chin and murmured, “Lizbeth…not again…”

She couldn't do this. Not now.

Breathing was an overrated experience.


	51. The Return (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

Elizabeth Weir sat at her desk and did nothing for a few seconds. Taking in her office slowly, she nodded approvingly before shuffling through paper that really had nothing to do with work, and more to do with assuring herself that Atlantis was back in her control. Unlike some other things…blowing away the thought, she resumed looking official – which unfortunately she seemed to excel at.

The light tapping at the plexiglass sent needles skittering down her throat. Elizabeth looked up to meet blue eyes with what she hoped was an impartial gaze. Rodney entered the office and seated himself quite without invitation – although she might have had a hard time refusing him if he'd asked. Stiffly, Elizabeth laid the paper flat and inquired, “How are things, Rodney?”

“Oh, you know, can't walk anywhere without stepping in replicator remains,” he answered lightly. “Apart from that, and the obvious post-traumatic upheaval by moving so frequently…huh. You could say things are sailing well. I was thinking we might even have time for pie or jell-o or any other suitable sweet thing. Except not the lemon meringue, because not only does it look evil, it is actually lethal – and not just to myself.”

Elizabeth hesitated. “Much as the offer is tempting, I have some paperwork to finish.”

“What paper work? We only just got back.”

“In that case, I need some time to myself.”

“You've had plenty of time,” Rodney remarked. “All twenty minutes of it. I counted.”

“I thought I made my point four weeks ago.”

“And yet here you are talking to me,” he pointed out.

Tapping her foot against the floor, Elizabeth tried to be impatient, but her skin warmed at the sight of him. A month was hardly a long time, by any means. But now that they were back to this point…she sighed. “Rodney, while we may be back on Atlantis, I'm not sure I want to resume our…our previous arrangement.”

His not-quite hidden smile faltered. “Yes, well, I assumed – ”

“You _assumed_.”

“I assumed,” Rodney repeated, louder, “that since you didn't actually say goodbye when the Ancients evicted us, you'd…you'd see me on the other side. Lizbeth, you can't do this.”

Elizabeth looked at the plexiglass behind him. “Your next briefing is tomorrow. Don't be late.”

She didn't dare watch him leave.


	52. Echoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode. Elizabeth's hearing is not yet 100%.

Balconies. Why did it always have to be balconies?

Rodney McKay, binoculars in hand and purpose in mind, stopped just short of the balcony. Usually one balcony would suffice for studying the sole remaining whale – or, Sam, as he liked to think – but the last glimpse was being afforded to a balcony on the opposite side of the main spire. And the irony of finding Dr. Weir on this particular balcony, and thinking of last glimpses, was glaringly obvious. Or just very, very coincidental.

Shifting from one foot to the other, he debated several courses of action and arrived at one of them in the few seconds it took to assess the situation. Rodney stepped out onto the balcony, turning the binoculars over in his hands. He watched her back uncertainly, noting the tension bunching at her shoulders.

“Elizabeth, before you say something – I mean anything – ” Rodney broke off, frowned and started again, holding up one finger. “Wait this might sound a little out there, perhaps even irrelevant, but listening is the best…and worst…thing you can do at this point. Yes, Earth isn't exactly the best breeding ground for…huh, slightly disturbing analogy. Right – Earth for us, not so good. Atlantis, _not so_ -not so good.”

She sighed, just loud enough to be heard of the waves below.

Rodney dropped his hand and patted his pocket instead. “Humans tend to make very big, ill-informed mistakes. And I know should because…because I've seen it a lot. Maybe once or twice in the mirror – but not as often as some others I could name.”

That might not have come out the right way.

“But,” Rodney continued, barely chagrined, “I – I like you. And I might even…you know…love… Right. And you're not interested. I get it, I'm over it and completely in the next galaxy.”

This time Elizabeth turned towards him, looking surprised, and for a moment Rodney considered inventing a rewind button to take back the last sentence. There was drama and then there was overkill…although that wasn't something he had to be too concerned with, because there were just some situations of certain doom where overkill was warranted – because generally overkill was a distinct possibility to actual persons.

“Rodney?” she asked too loudly. “Did you say something?”

Feeling stupid, and a little relieved, Rodney said nothing out loud. Instead, he enunciated the word silently so she could read his lips, “Nothing.”

Rodney walked back inside, tapping his binoculars absently.


	53. Irresponsible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

Elizabeth had read some wild reports in her time, but when the word 'Lucius' appeared more than once, this was the warning that the next few paragraphs were bound to stretch the limits of an Earth-based imagination. She found herself in the mess, nursing a mug of coffee, and attempting to make sense of the different accounts. It was then – and only then – that she truly appreciated that Ronon never submitted reports. One less riddle to work through.

_Rodney made a daft attempt to dig his way out with a spoon…_

“Thank you, Carson,” she murmured. “But next time, a little less on the comedy and more on the relevant…”

That wasn't fair of her. Carson hated going off-world and any levity on his part was rare.

Her eyes had started on Rodney's report when the head scientist himself slumped into the chair opposite her, also bearing coffee. He noted the reports spread out on the table. “Ah. You will notice that unlike Sheppard, I double space mine. More professional.”

“And unlike Sheppard, you offer a running commentary on the food.”

“Mmm, yes – one never knows when one might be stranded off-world between a rock and a hard…poisonous berry,” Rodney said impatiently, and then casually rested his hand over hers.

Elizabeth drew in a quick breath, startled once more by the heat of his fingers binding her arm in place. The reports rasped over her palm in her one weak attempt to pull away, but the movement was slow, especially when he tightened his hold. The words rose to her lips – half-explanation, half-refusal – but faded as Rodney took her hand to rest it under his chin, eyes deep and determined. His fingers slipped down to caress her wrist.

“I need to read your report,” she said finally. “Or I'm sure I can very easily remove you from active duty.”

“Remove me, come on… remove me for _what_?”

“Use your imagination.”

“I can make an educated guess.”

“Yes?” Elizabeth challenged.

Frustration creased his forehead, but Rodney did not pass on the opportunity. “Let's see – you talk to Heightmeyer, you talk to Carson…you even talk to Zelenka and somehow I end up talking to padded walls. Are you ready for my next educated guess?”

“Rodney…”

“I make you uncomfortable,” Rodney finished, hand now at her elbow.

Indignation curdled in Elizabeth's throat. “No, Rodney. You could never make me uncomfortable. Even if you tried.”

The question was in his gaze, but Elizabeth could not answer. His grip loosened and she pulled away. Rodney drank some coffee. She turned a page in his report.

When Elizabeth looked up again, finally finding the words to say, he was gone.


	54. Tao of Rodney

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set just after the last scene.

Keeping step with Rodney as he led the charge towards the mess hall, Elizabeth offered the usual interested smiles, nods and even the sparing joke – modified for his ego, of course. But that ego was  _him_ , and he would hardly be Doctor McKay without it. Despite her admitted attraction to that – one which was not easily forgotten – it was probably for the best that she had left his book sitting in her desk drawer, as far from a computer as possible.

Magical chemistry. Those were his words, and there was that brightness in his blue eyes when he turned to her, as he outlined his plans to re-learn his Ancient-aided discoveries…and, of course, the many ponderings over what would be left in the mess hall this late in the afternoon.

“Rodney, a moment please.”

His steps faltered only slightly, but Rodney dropped all lines of his dialogue immediately. “Mmm, take as many moments as you need. I'll just continue to think out loud, but in my head. Which…wouldn't be so much out loud as very loud inside.”

Elizabeth took a beat to think over his words. Almost nonsensical, as always, but betraying his thoughts in a way that she knew he didn't realise. She did spend a few moments sorting through the most diplomatic and choice phrases that would best broach this subject. At last, she asked with a forced touch of innocent curiosity, “Just what range of thoughts were you privy to?”

“Oh.” Rodney considered this. “Mostly superficial; stray thoughts. Like things people could say out loud. And then there was…the occasional deep and dark secret.”

“I see. You said you were blocking it out after the first few instances?”

A clue too many. Comprehension dawned in his unique fashion – eyes widening, mouth open slightly but still allowing his smile of discovery…Rodney assured her, corners of his eyes crinkling, “Don't worry, Lizabeth. Your secrets are safe with…well, you.”

Rodney started walking again. She followed, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and back. Good. That was one less thing to be concerned about. It was one thing to read her thoughts about a situation, but another entirely to intrude on personal feelings. Even though she was barely half a step behind him in the corridor, Elizabeth missed his proximity. It wasn't his arms or his…his kisses. It was just being with him, something she had missed. She had almost allowed herself to return to their past intimacy during his near-death.

“…the mashed potato has the distinct odour of butter,” Rodney's diatribe pierced her heavy thoughts.

“There you go. Something you would have missed in Ascension – not needing to eat at the mess.”

Horror crept across his face. “Believe me, as disgusting as the food looks, smells, tastes and – dare I say it – feels, I would even consider it a worthy alternative to a higher plane of existence.”

“You could have always returned to human form,” Elizabeth reminded him, stomach churning. She'd wanted that. Never to lose him.

“And have my memories erased? How do you know they wouldn't try to take some of my ideas at the same time?”

The mess hall wasn't busy and the buffet was plentiful enough that Rodney's concerns about going hungry were unwarranted. Before his attention was completely stolen by the promise of an afternoon snack, Rodney fixed her with one last adoring smile.

Elizabeth returned the smile cautiously, but focused on her reason for distancing herself – the reason he could have plucked from her mind, but didn't. The very thought of losing him to death, even if ascension was the outcome, had paralysed her even before leaving Atlantis for those six weeks. Losing him to geography had hurt enough.

Losing him completely would ruin her.

And this? This was why.

“We should find a table first,” Elizabeth told him.

Rodney was too engrossed in the buffet for that, leaving her to find a table. So really it was “I should find a table”.

_We love you._

_I love you._


	55. The Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during the episode, on the morning of Elizabeth's meeting with those two people.

Rubbing the anticipatory exhaustion from her eyes, Elizabeth pressed her hand to the side of her door and tracked its movement as it slid into the wall. She lifted her eyes to find Rodney McKay standing in front of her, eyebrows raised, PDA at the ready. Shaking her head, she told him, “Isn't it a little early for this?”

“No, no, I've woken you up earlier than this before,” Rodney replied, tapping the screen of his PDA.

Since those situations involved him staying the night in her quarters, Elizabeth felt justified in walking out past him. She took several steps along the corridor, feeling more than hearing him follow. The closest transporter was one of the more popular ones in the city, and it would probably be best to appear casually professional should she come across anyone who could put two and two together.

“I know what this is about,” Elizabeth told him at length. “And, no, Rodney you can't interfere with this meeting, because it will only make things worse. I won't ask how you found out about this.”

“Good, because I wouldn't tell you. I'm just saying that as someone who has had a hand – granted, an abnormally large and intrusive hand – in their recent development, I would have experience vital to any negotiations.”

Elizabeth stopped for a moment. “You were playing a game, Rodney. How does that give you more experience than someone who was living it?”

“A…valid argument,” Rodney conceded. “Still, that's no reason for deliberately withholding information from me.”

“What?”

“Let's not beat around the bush shall we? You didn't tell me about the meeting, not because of objective diplomacy – but because you are trying to keep things from me.”

“That's ridiculous, Rodney, and you know it.”

Elizabeth found herself facing him, taking a step forward. The PDA shot up between them and she paused, resting her hands on his. She spoke evenly, “That is not the case. I would remind you that you're not exactly forthcoming.”

“Oh? Let's hear this one.”

“You had a date the other night.”

“Who told you that?” Rodney demanded.

Elizabeth sighed, mentally berating herself. “It was Ka – ”

“Heightmeyer. Of course. Confidentiality means nothing to that woman.”

“It was _Katie_ who told me,” she corrected sternly. “At girl's poker night.”

“You actually go to those things?”

“That isn't the point.”

“Hard to miss a point with _that_ subtlety. As it so happens, I had dinner with a woman who was interested in seeing me again, as hard as that is to believe.”

“What happened to that determination of yours?” Elizabeth prodded, and regretted it.

Rodney looked away uncomfortably, asking sardonically, “I'm not the only one playing games, am I?”

Elizabeth had no answer for that.


	56. The Ark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

The science labs were quiet, filled with only blinking lights and the occasionally muffled sound of Rodney McKay shifting uncomfortably on his chair. Work that had seemed so vital a few hours ago dwindled to the importance of sorting paperclips. Something worthy of a lackey. Like Zelenka. Hovering his fingers over his earpiece, Rodney quickly checked the time. Good, Zelenka would still be awake…but probably eating. Not so good.

But it wasn't even dinner yet. Why was it so quiet?

No, quiet was good. Very good.

Maybe not perpetual silence, though.

“Hm, what's this…” Rodney said loudly. “Oh, actual paperclips. Well that's handy. For what exactly? Nothing. Staples are a far superior tool.”

“Paperclips, however, are re-usable and I'm afraid that aspect is more appealing to Stargate Command when they send the _Daedalus_.”

Rodney stiffened. “Elizabeth. Walk in and make yourself comfortable. And, uh, don't let me stop you from bringing…food.”

A box appeared on the desk beside him. Rodney carefully lined the lid with his fingers in giddy anticipation before opening the box, revealing but one doughnut – and with pink frosting no less. This was deemed alright, given that there were brown sprinkles. Brown was infinitely the best doughnut flavour because it was just like chocolate. Rodney looked up and noticed that Elizabeth was watching him with her eyebrows raised.

“Thank you?” Rodney tried.

“You're welcome,” she responded, with what he hoped was a forgiving smile. “I noticed that you didn't stop by the infirmary to see Teyla.”

Rodney frowned down at the paperclips. “What would that achieve?”

“How about showing an interest in your team? I thought we'd had this discussion years ago.”

After Hoff, that's right. Rodney slapped his palm down on a pile of paperclips and scratched them across the table. The sound was excruciating, but kind of in a good way. He said after a while, “It's not the same. Yes, so maybe I am coming to…appreciate the people I work with. But – there are just some things that aren't obligatory.”

“Teyla would want to see you,” Elizabeth told him, eyes warm and sparkly – just the way they should be.

“I seriously doubt that. She's had what, two or three visitors already today? What more does she want?”

The seat next to him became occupied, and Elizabeth fiddled with a paperclip. She assured him, “Rodney, your team mates value you, even if they don't happen to show it. Even Sheppard,” she added when he opened his mouth. “I know you care, although you choose not to show – or believe – it. Visit Teyla. I know she'll appreciate your company.”

“For how long?” Rodney asked, trying hard not to appear enthused.

“Hmm, you can start small. A few minutes perhaps.”

“Doesn't sound so bad.”

“Let me know how it goes.”

“I'll write up the full five-hundred paged, double-spaced report for you,” Rodney promised, leaning in towards her.

After a beat, he pulled away and marched out the door.

Maybe the infirmary would not be as quiet.


	57. Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before Rodney cleans up Carson's quarters.

Walking into the wall of darkness that marked the entrance to Rodney's lab, Elizabeth paused. Even though natural light itself could open the room up, the occupant had chosen to disappear into the depths of a lab that seemed twice its size with all windows blinded. Careful steps took her inside and the door hummed shut behind her, cutting off that one last link to the outside. Elizabeth missed her shadow.

“Rodney?” she said softly. “The memorial is today.”

“I know.”

Elizabeth held out a hand, found the lab bench and followed the edge towards his voice. The dim shapes surrounding her gnawed on her nerves, unravelling a little with each step. She stopped, drew a breath and continued. “You haven't left this lab in days.”

“What, you thought I didn't know where I was?” His voice increased in volume, betraying the strains of hollowness behind each word.

“Actually yes. Can I keep you company?”

A snort echoed ahead of her. “Oh, so, I should just roll out the welcome mat. Fine. Sit down. Wipe your feet. Hey, maybe we can even be quiet for a while.”

Elizabeth sighed and peered into the gloom, finally discerning him sitting on the floor, leaning against a cupboard. Hunched over, forehead on his knees, he was dwarfed by the world pressing in on them in the darkness. She sat beside him.

“I didn't have much time for friends,” Rodney began distantly. “Always getting in the way. Stealing your ideas…or your lunch…or your girlfriends. But that wasn't the worst part. It was the inevitable abandonment. It just…it just really sucks.”

“Carson would never have abandoned you,” she told him, rubbing a hand over his shoulder blades.

His body shook. “My fault. All my fault. I should have just _gone with him_. But he shouldn't have died. Not like…not like a lab experiment with, God, an exploding tumour. It's not fair!” he added angrily.

“Rodney…” Her breath caught. “You have people who care about you.”

“It's pointless. There's no _point_ in saying nice things to people who don't even deserve it, because show them the door and they'll walk right through it.”

Elizabeth rested her head on his shoulder. “You cannot do this to yourself, Rodney. Yes, you have lost a good friend, but that doesn't mean you will lose any others that you make along the way.”

“Just where did this brilliant deduction come from?”

Truthfully… “I have been in your place. I have made the same mistake.”

His hand ghosted over hers uncertainly before desperately winding his fingers around her hand. Rodney leaned heavily against her and said nothing.

“I am your friend,” Elizabeth told him. “And I am not going anywhere. Not now. Not even when you show me the door.”

Friends. They couldn't just be friends. She's always believed that. They'd even tried it. And he proved it, by turning around to kiss her, hard and desperate. Elizabeth gently rubbed his back for a few moments, accommodating him, before closing her eyes and escaping with him. Rodney's hand tangled in her hair and his unshaven face rasped against hers.

“Wait,” Elizabeth said.

He waited.

“Carson needs you to take him home,” she reminded him carefully. “I know he's not here for you, but at the very least, you can be there for him. When you return…I'll be here.”

Rodney kissed her again. She thought of Katie and Mike. But then she thought of Dr. Beckett. The tears were not completely unexpected, but it was weakness. Blinking away the tears, Elizabeth let Rodney kiss her – because she loved him, and because it was all she could give.


	58. Submersion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before the episode.

Elizabeth regretted waking up, legs tangled with Rodney's and his voice burring away constantly. She rested her chin on one hand and watched him muttering up at the ceiling. It wasn't so worrying that he appeared to be talking to himself – what was of concern to her was that she'd woken in his quarters. Again. It also happened to be light enough that escaping undetected would be difficult. Yet again.

“Mobile drilling station,” Rodney insisted, abruptly coherent.

Elizabeth brushed her fingers over his hair, flattening it. He made no protest, but blinked at her expectantly. She relented. “I distinctly remember you telling me it would be impossible to locate.”

His expression attempted to approach indignant. “As it happens, brilliant ideas occur to me at random – not the best schedule, admittedly, but…”

“Rodney. Can you guarantee me that you will be able to find the drilling station?”

“Yes, yes,” he answered vaguely. “More than likely.”

“That's not a guarantee. I'm not sending out a Jumper if the only result is some whale watching.”

“As opposed to joy flights out to the mainland.”

The indignant laugh curdled in her throat. “I could name a few who would be inclined that way, but they are usually there to transport any botanists or waylaid physicists.”

“You said _usually_. Did you notice that?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Rodney, this is why I should not be involving myself with someone I work with. The potential to misplace my priorities is too great a risk.”

“Didn't bother you before,” he muttered petulantly.

Rodney tugged the sheet so that she was forcibly inched towards him. His eyes widened into round, innocent bolts of blue. Curling her fingers around his neck, Elizabeth leaned in to kiss him gently. It was a mistake. No more a mistake than spending the night with him. Which, she supposed, was not much of a mistake after all.

“Alright,” she allowed. “What was your brilliant idea?”

“Obviously the mobile drilling station would have some sort of homing device. Because otherwise you'd have a valuable piece of technology running wild. And, so, therefore, the database should have a log of previous locations.”

“That's quite a simple but effective solution.”

“Hello, yes, it's _brilliant_ ,” Rodney corrected.

Elizabeth smiled reluctantly and kissed him again.

“And more to explore, did I mention that?” he asked, detaching himself. “Not just apartments, but more interesting things. Blinking panels, alternative power sources…”

“Exploring,” Elizabeth agreed, lips travelling to his neck.

Rodney fell silent, but only for a moment. “Yes, I suppose you can come too.”

“How could I accept such an invitation?”

“Did I mention the power source thing? That's…that's important, don't you think?”

Elizabeth breathed against his shoulder, “Maybe.”

“Is that what it takes to get permission, then?” he demanded distractedly.

He was certainly much more fun incoherent, she decided, and kissed him into silence.


	59. Vengeance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the episode.

If there were better ways to access the bottom of a rogue crystal shelf, then Rodney McKay didn't know them – and therefore, if he didn't know them, they didn't exist. While lying down on one's back might be considered an easy task in the process of fixing erroneous technology, it wasn't so easy on muscles and shoulders that required a specifically designed mattress.

Writhing and wincing, Rodney glared up at the ceiling before letting the room fade away. The baleful bleeping of more than one control crystal was the only warning before the entire shelf went dark, which meant no light to see by to fix them. The rationale was simple – get a minion to hold a torch.

For the first time in a while, he decided that he was quite at ease on the floor, squished underneath a panel, thank you very much. Except that he was claustrophobic and was also mortally terrified of warping his spine out of shape. But no…this was…the only place he felt comfortable right now.

Rodney shook sleep from his eyes, though his limbs refused to be shaken loose. So he lay there, squinting up at the bottom of the crystals.

“Are you feeling alright?” asked a voice from the void.

Elizabeth. Of course she would find him like this. Snorting irritably through his nostrils, he answered, “If being an extra on the set of _Alien vs. Predator_ is alright, then yes. Otherwise, not so much.”

“I won't ask which side you were on. You're in one piece aren't you?”

“I don't know,” Rodney announced. “I've yet to run a full inventory on my fingers and toes, but since I'm not feeling numb in any extremities, that should be okay.”

A pair of feet met his side, and Elizabeth wriggled the tips of her shoes against him. “Answer me this then. Why are you working on this when we both know that it is a waste of your most brilliant skills?”

“It might not matter to you if the entertainment system stops working due to a faulty connection, but I can assure you there are some who would disagree.”

“Ah. A matter of life and death then.”

Rodney pulled a face tight against the panel above him. He tapped a few crystals futilely until his hands dropped to his sides in boredom – not exhaustion. Definitely not. And still…a pinpoint of cool liquid escaped his tear duct, rolling uncontrollably down his cheek until it hit the floor beneath him.

“It would kill him,” he said quietly.

“What?”

“Seeing what Michael did,” Rodney continued, then swallowed down the tremor in his voice. “It would kill Carson.”

He heard Elizabeth kneel beside him, felt her hand gently resting on his stomach. A comforting weight. Rodney blinked any more traitorous droplets from his eyes and fumbled for her hand, holding on securely when he found it.

“It would kill him,” he whispered.


	60. First Strike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set a short time before Colonel Ellis talks to Elizabeth in her office.

Elizabeth's elbows ached from digging them into the surface of her desk, though she doubted she could unglue her chin from her hands. Watching the harried preparations taking place in the control room – as well as people busily pretending to be doing so – she couldn't wash away the thrill of foreboding. The red glow splashing across the shield only widened the pit in her stomach.

Amidst all this, the most out of place occurrence was Rodney McKay sitting down opposite her, frowning constantly and attempting to keep his fingers still.

“Aren't you supposed to be prepping Sheppard to fly the city?” Elizabeth queried, bemused.

Rodney's eyebrows knitted. “Supposed to, yes. He can survive two minutes without me. And we can't do anything until Zelenka has finished crunching some numbers. So that brings me to you.”

For some reason, this stirred no surprise within her. Elizabeth loosened her arms enough to lift her chin, regarding him calmly. “Me? I'm flattered. What can I do for you, Rodney?”

The crease above his eyes deepened and he distractedly settled his hands on the desk, knuckles tightening. Elizabeth resisted the urge to cover his hands with her own. He would probably feel the tremors radiating from beneath her skin. He avoided meeting her eyes, focusing on his fists.

“Do you want to get married?” he asked abruptly.

Elizabeth stared at him. “That's…not a question I can answer right this moment.”

“No, no, I get that. Just – putting the question out there.”

“And I'll take it into advisement,” Elizabeth told him, each word slowly and carefully planned. “But right now, Atlantis needs you a lot more than I do.”

His expression cleared, determined and focused. “You're right. Of course. Answer later. City now.”

Elizabeth didn't watch him leave her office, resting her chin in her hands once more. No shock…no surprise. She'd somehow been expecting it. Possibly from the moment he'd finally forgiven her for Simon. That same moment when he'd kissed her without any encouragement.

Her answer, however, was a slightly more complex issue…


	61. Adrift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before Keller visits Rodney at the lab, while he's working on the nanite problem.

Of all the moments, of all the luck, in the universe at that precise time, the laptop decided to insist that there was no battery left, and no complicated calculations could be made while it was stressed and hot. Which was extremely rude and difficult, and it wasted precious minutes as Rodney hunted down the charger, realised he couldn't find a working socket to plug it into and ended up using someone else's laptop.

They shouldn't have just left it lying around in an emergency after all.

Hands poised above the keys, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his forehead and the stings on his cheeks, Rodney stared at the screen in near incomprehension. Colonel Sheppard's words made all other discomfort seem like nothing. His ears burned indignantly. Couldn't he see? Atlantis was nothing without Elizabeth!

“Should have just given me her answer,” Rodney muttered half-heartedly, rubbing his chest as it spasmed.

Unless she thought he'd just been asking if she ever _wanted_ to get married and not, you know, to him. Uncomfortably, Rodney thought back to his last conversation with Katie. But that wasn't important. The nanites were, though, right this moment.

Elizabeth's words from her office haunted him. _Atlantis needs you a lot more than I do._

What did she _mean_?

No, that didn't matter. Did it?

“Of course it matters,” Rodney told the empty room. “Maybe not the most imperative question to be asking, but it matters…well it should matter.”

He remembered when Niam had infected her. That initial swoop of sickness had far out-classed a sinking feeling. Because it had been his fault. She hadn't accepted that it was his fault. But he said it. He had said it. _I'm so sorry._

Except now…he wasn't so sure if he was sorry or not. Well, he was sorry she'd ever had to go through the nanite invasion, sorry that he couldn't carry her to the infirmary – twice now – but he was not sorry for making that initial mistake. Elizabeth would want this. Even if she didn't…Atlantis needed her. He needed her more.

_You said I was valuable. Did you mean that?_

_Well of course I did. You're the expedition leader. Or hadn't you noticed that?_

That was when she had kissed him. For the first time.

Rodney slammed a fist onto his laptop, and with a groan it sprang back to life. The quick spark of confusion disappeared and he quickly began running through both laptops at the same time. He could make this safe. Sheppard would see. Elizabeth would be fine. And he would ask her again.

She would say yes. She had to say yes.


	62. Lifeline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set while Ronon and John are heading down to the core room in the Asuran city.

Elizabeth focused intently on the windshield of the Jumper, trying to ignore the seemingly consistent buzzing in her joints. She told herself it was nerves. Adrenalin. Or merely the thought of tiny machines in her bloodstream – that alone made her skin crawl. Turning back to look at Rodney, the faint echo of anger dissipated as he met her gaze, face stony and unrepentant.

“Elizabeth,” he started abruptly. “There are some things – ”

“Rodney, wait – ”

He shook his head. “No, listen. I just want it noted that when I asked you if you wanted to get married, I didn't mean at some distant point in the future to some random person. I meant to me. I did kind of spring it on you. Even after…after…what I did, which I couldn't not _do_ , I guess what I'm saying is…my offer stands.”

Elizabeth said nothing at first, weighing her emotions. Neutrality had seemed so natural to her before coming to the Pegasus galaxy. Opposing parties relied on her objective opinion, but right now subjectivity was a greater vice than she realised.

“You were reckless,” she told him firmly. “You risked the safety of the city, and you risked the integrity of our people. Simply because you thought you needed me.”

“I do need you. We – we need you too. I'm sorry I did something you didn't want, but I'm not sorry I have the chance to tell you – I love you.”

The sigh escaped her before she could stifle it. “I love you too, Rodney. But…I'm not sure how I feel about this.”

“You love me,” Rodney stated. “So…so…marry me.”

“There's more to it than that!”

“I know that,” he agonised. Elizabeth left her seat, pulling him into a searing kiss. His momentary stiffness gave way to the passion she was used to him revealing when it was just them. He held her tight – too tight – then pulled back as quickly as she had approached him.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, and she laughed.

His eyes widened. “Yes?”

“Yes!”

“Oh thank God.”

She held her fingers over his lips. “One condition. Rodney, if I… _promise me_ that if anything happens to me, you will move on.”

“How can you say that?” he demanded anxiously.

“Rodney…”

He frowned. “I can't promise that. Because…because…regardless of whether or not we make it out of this, I will still marry you.”

Elizabeth stared hopelessly at him. She couldn't explain how important it was. She couldn't explain how her heart was filled with dread. So instead she kissed him again.

It felt too much like a final goodbye.

And then she knew.

They had kissed for the last time.


End file.
